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IN  FOUR  VOLUMES 
VOLUME  II. 


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Copyright,  1883,  by  SUSAN  ABBOT  MEAD. 


NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE. 


VOLUME    II. 


NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE. 


CHAPTER  XVIIL 

CONCLUDED 

England,  Austria,  and  Russia,  together  with  many  other  of  the  minor 
powers  of  monarchical  Europe,  were  now  combined  against  France.  The 
Emperor  Paul  of  Russia  had  furnished  a  large  army  to  co-operate  with  the 
Allies  in  their  assault  upon  the  Republic.  Ten  thousand  of  the  Russians 
had  been  taken  prisoners.  But  in  the  recent  disasters  which  had  overwhelm- 
ed the  arms  of  France,  many  thousand  French  prisoners  were  in  the  hands 
of  the  Allies.  Napoleon  proposed  an  exchange.  The  Austrian  government 
refused,  because  it  selfishly  wished  to  exchange  for  Austrians  only.  The 
English  government  also  refused,  assigning  the  reason  that  it  was  contrary 
to  their  principles  to  exchange  for  prisoners  taken  from  other  nations. 

"What !"  exclaim'ed  Napoleon  to  the  court  of  St.  James,  "do  you  refuse 
to  liberate  the  Russians,  who  were  your  allies — who  were  fighting  in  your 
ranks,  and  under  your  own  commander,  the  Duke  of  York  ?"  With  Vienna 
he  also  expostulated,  in  tones  of  generous  warmth,  "Do  you  refuse  to  restore 
to  their  country  those  men  to  whom  you  are  indebted  for  your  victories  and 
conquests  in  Italy,  and  who  have  left  in  your  hands  a  multitude  of  French 
prisoners  whom  they  have  taken  ?  Such  injustice  excites  my  indignation." 
Then,  yielding  to  those  impulses  so  characteristic  of  his  generous  nature,  he 
exclaimed,  "  I  will  restore  them  to  the  Czar  without  exchange.  He  shall 
see  how  I  esteem  brave  men." 

Whatever  Napoleon  undertook,  he  performed  magnificently.  The  Russian 
officers  immediately  received  their  swords.  The  captive  troops,  ten  thou- 
sand in  number,  were  assembled  at  Aix-la-Chapelle.  They  were  all  fur- 
nished with  a  -complete  suit  of  new  clothing,  in  the  uniform  of  their  own 
regiments,  and  thoroughly  armed  with  weapons  of  the  very  best  of  French 
manufacture.  The  officers  were  authorized  to  organize  them  into  battalions 
and  regiments.  And  thus  triumphantly  these  battalions  of  armed  men  were 
returned  into  the  bosom  of  the  ranks  of  the  multitudinous  hosts  rushing  down 
upon  France.  It  is  gratifying  to  record  that  magnanimity  so  extraordinary 
passed  not  away  unappreciated. 

The  Emperor  Paul  was  so  disgusted  with  the  selfishness  of  Austria  and 
England,  and  was  so  struck  with  admiration  in  view  of  this  unparalleled  gen- 


306  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.  [CHAP.  XVIII. 

erosity  of  Napoleon,  that  he  immediately  abandoned  the  alliance.  He  at- 
tached himself  to  Napoleon  with  that  enthusiasm  of  constitutional  ardor 
which  characterized  the  eccentric  monarch.  In  a  letter  to  the  First  Consul, 
written  with  his  own  hand,  he  said, 

"  Citizen  First  Consul, — I  do  not  write  to  you  to  discuss  the  rights  of  men 
or  citizens.  Every  country  governs  itself  as  it  pleases.  Wherever  I  see  at 
the  head  of  a  nation  a  man  who  knows  how  to  rule  and  how  to  fight,  my 
heart  is  attracted  toward  him.  I  write  to  acquaint  you  with  my  dissatisfac- 
tion with  England,  who  violates  every  article  of  the  law  of  nations,  and  has 
no  guide  but  her  egotism  and  her  interest.  I  wish  to  unite  with  you,  to  put 
an  end  to  the  unjust  proceedings  of  that  government." 

Russia  was  thus  detached  from  the  alliance,  and,  sending  a  minister  to 
Paris,  recognized  the  new  government.  Napoleon  now  sent  an  embassador 
to  Prussia  to  establish,  if  possible,  friendly  relations  with  that  power.  Duroc 
was  selected  for  this  mission,  in  consequence  of  his  graceful  address,  his  pol- 
ished education,  and  his  varied  accomplishments.  Frederick  William  was 
a  great  admirer  of  military  genius.  Duroc,  who  had  been  in  the  campaigns 
of  Italy  and  of  Egypt,  could  interest  him  with  the  recital  of  many  heroic  en- 
terprises. The  first  interview  of  Duroc  with  the  Prussian  monarch  was  en- 
tirely private,  and  lasted  two  hours.  The  next  day  Duroc  was  invited  to 
dine  with  the  king,  and  the  Prussian  court  immediately  recognized  the  con- 
sular government. 

Notwithstanding  Napoleon's  vast  exaltation,  he  preserved  personally  the 
same  simple  tastes  and  habits,  the  same  untiring  devotion  to  the  details  of 
business,  and  the  same  friendships,  as  when  he  was  merely  a  general  of  the 
Republic.  He  rose  at  seven  o'clock,  dressed  with  scrupulous  neatness,  dur- 
ing which  time  the  morning  journals  were  read  to  him.  He  then  entered 
his  cabinet,  where  he  read  letters,  and  wrote  or  dictated  answers  until  ten. 
He  then  breakfasted  with  Josephine  and  Hortense,  usually  some  of  his  aids 
and  one  or  two  literary  or  scientific  friends  being  invited.  At  the  close  of 
this  frugal  meal  he  attended  the  meetings  of  the  Council,  or  paid  visits  of 
ceremony  or  business  to  some  of  the  public  offices.  At  five  o'clock  he  re« 
turned  to  dinner,  on  ordinary  occasions  not  allowing  himself  more  than  fif- 
teen minutes  at  the  table.  He  then  retired  to  the  apartments  of  Josephine, 
where  he  received  the  visits  of  ministers  and  of  the  most  distinguished  per- 
sons of  the  metropolis. 

In  the  organization  of  his  court,  Napoleon  was  unalterably  determined  to 
suppress  that  licentiousness  of  manners  which  for  ages  had  disgraced  the 
palaces  of  the  French  monarchs,  and  which,  since  the  overthrow  of  Chris- 
tianity, had  swept  like  a  flood  of  pollution  over  all  France.  He  was  very 
severe  upon  those  females,  often  of  the  highest  rank,  who  endeavored  to  at- 
tract attention  by  freedom  of  dress  or  behavior.  It  was  expected  that  men 
and  their  wives  should  appear  in  society  together — a  thing  hitherto  unprece- 
dented, and  contrary  to  all  ideas  of  fashionable  life.  The  court  had  hitherto 
taken  the  lead  in  profligacy,  and  the  nation  had  followed.  Napoleon  thought 
that  by  enforcing  purity  of  morals  in  the  palace,  he  could  draw  back  the  na- 
tion to  more  decorum  of  manners.  "  Immorality,"  said  he,  "  is,  beyond  a 
doubt,  the  worst  of  all  faults  in  a  sovereign,  because  he  introduces  it  as  a 


1800.J  COURT  OF  THE  FIRST  CONSUL.  307 

fashion  among  his  subjects,  by  whom  it  is  practiced  for  the  sake  of  pleasing 
him.  It  strengthens  every  vice,  blights  every  virtue,  and  infects  all  society 
like  a  pestilence.  In  short,  it  is  a  nation's  scourge." 

On  one  occasion  a  courtier,  very  high  in  rank  and  office,  one  of  the  im- 
perial chamberlains,  requested  permission  to  present  his  daughter-in-law  at 
court.  She  was  extremely  beautiful,  and,  though  distinguished  by  a  capti- 
vating air  of  simplicity,  was  one  of  the  most  artful  of  the  daughters  of  Eve. 
She  joined  the  imperial  parties  on  all  occasions,  and,  wherever  she  went, 
threw  herself  in  the  way  of  Napoleon.  Her  soft  and  languishing  eyes  were 
riveted  upon  him.  She  sighed,  blushed,  and  affected  bashfulness,  while,  at 
the  same  time,  she  constantly  placed  herself  in  situations  to  attract  his  no- 
tice. Sometimes  she  would  stand  for  a  long  time,  apparently  lost  in  rev- 
erie, gazing  and  sighing  before  the  portraits  of  Napoleon.  Her  father-in-law 
affected  displeasure  at  her  conduct,  and  complained  of  the  unfortunate  but 
resistless  passion  which  she  had  imbibed.  Her  husband,  who  was  infamous- 
ly in  the  intrigue,  regarded  the  matter  with  the  most  philosophic  indiffer- 
ence. The  mother-in-law  also  made  herself  busy  to  help  the  matter  along, 
saying  that,  after  all,  it  was  hard  to  blame  her  for  loving  Napoleon.  For 
some  time  Napoleon  paid  no  attention  to  the  intrigue,  and  appeared  not  to 
notice  it.  At  length  the  affair  became  a  subject  of  court  gossip,  and  it  was 
necessary  that  it  should  be  noticed. 

One  evening,  at  the  close  of  a  sitting  of  the  Council  of  State,  at  which 
Napoleon  had  presided,  conducting  Cambaceres  into  the  recess  of  one  of  the 

windows,  he  said,  "  Madame  B is  rendering  herself  quite  intolerable  to 

me.  The  conduct  of  her  relations  is  still  more  odious.  The  father-in-law 
is  an  infamous  man,  her  husband  a  mean-spirited  wretch,  and  her  mother  a 
vile,  intriguing  woman,  by  whose  arts,  however,  I  am  not  to  be  duped.  The 
abandoned  female  who  unreservedly  puts  up  her  virtue  to  sale  is  preferable 
to  the  hypocrite  who,  for  motives  equally  mercenary,  affects  a  sentimental 
attachment.  I  wish  you  to  call  on  my  chamberlain,  and  inform  him  that  I 
dispense  with  his  services  for  the  space  of  a  year.  Inform  his  wife  that  I 
forbid  her  appearance  at  court  for  six  years.  And  make  known  to  the  affec- 
tionate married  couple,  that,  to  afford  them  an  opportunity  of  duly  appreci- 
ating each  other's  qualities,  I  give  them  leave  to  spend  six  months  in  Naples, 
six  months  in  Vienna,  and  six  months  in  any  other  part  of  Germany." 

On  another  occasion  a  lieutenant  colonel  sent  a  petition  to  Napoleon  so- 
liciting promotion.  In  accordance  with  the  corruptions  of  those  paganized 
times,  he  added,  "  I  have  two  beautiful  daughters,  who  will  be  too  happy  to 
throw  themselves  at  the  feet  of  the  good  Emperor,  and  thank  him  for  the 
benefit  conferred  on  their  father." 

Napoleon  was  indignant  at  this  atrocious  proposal.  He  said,  "  I  know 
not  what  withholds  me  from  having  this  infamous  letter  inserted  in  the  order 
of  the  day  of  the  writer's  regiment."  Napoleon  made  inquiries  respecting 
this  officer,  and  found  that  he  had  been  one  of  the  assassins  during  the  Reign 
of  Terror,  and  an  intimate  friend  of  Robespierre.  He  immediately  dismissed 
him  from  service.  He  found  that  the  daughters  were  amiable  and  interest- 
ing young  ladies,  totally  unconscious  of  the  infamous  project  entertained  by 
their  father.  That  they  might  not  suffer  the  penalty  of  their  father's  base* 


308  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.  [CHAP.  XVIII 

ness,  he  settled  a  small  pension  on  each  of  them,  on  condition  of  their  leav 
ing  Paris,  and  retiring  to  their  native  city. 

Napoleon  effectually  enthroned  himself  in  the  hearts  of  the  common  peo' 
pie  of  France.  They  believed  him  to  be  their  friend  and  advocate.  They 
still  cherish  the  same  belief.  At  this  hour  there  is  no  ruler,  enthroned  of 
entombed,  who  is  regarded  with  the  enthusiastic  veneration  with  which  the 
people  of  France  now  cherish  the  memory  of  their  emperor.  Napoleon 
stands  alone  in  that  glory.  He  has  no  rival. 

Robert  Southey  makes  the  following  admissions  respecting  this  great  con- 
flict between  Napoleon,  as  the  advocate  of  popular  rights,  and  the  despotic 
governments  of  Europe. 

"  The  state  of  Naples  may  be  described  in  a  few  words.  The  king  was 
one  of  the  Spanish  Bourbons.  As  the  Caesars  have  shown  us  to  what  wick- 
edness the  moral  nature  of  princes  may  be  perverted,  so,  in  this  family,  the 
degradation  to  which  their  intellect  and  nature  can  be  reduced  has  been  not 
less  conspicuously  evinced.  Ferdinand,  like  the  rest  of  his  race,  was  pas- 
sionately fond  of  field-sports,  and  cared  for  nothing  else.  His  queen  had  all 
the  vices  of  the  house  of  Austria,  with  little  to  mitigate  and  nothing  to  en- 
noble them ;  provided  she  could  have  her  pleasures,  and  the  king  his  sports, 
they  cared  not  in  what  manner  the  revenue  was  raised  or  administered.  Of 
course,  a  system  of  favoritism  existed  at  court,  and  the  vilest  and  most  im- 
pudent corruption  prevailed  in  every  department  of  state,  and  in  every  branch 
of  administration  from  the  highest  to  the  lowest.  A  sense  of  better  things 
was  kept  alive  in  some  of  the  Neapolitans  by  literature,  and  by  their  inter- 
course with  happier  countries.  These  persons  naturally  looked  to  France 
at  the  commencement  of  the  Revolution,  and,  during  all  the  horrors  of  that 
Revolution,  still  cherished  the  hope  that,  by  the  aid  of  France,  they  might  be 
enabled  to  establish  a  new  order  of  things  in  Naples.  They  were  not  mis- 
taken in  believing  that  no  government  could  be  worse  than  their  own.  All 
these"  (those  seeking  a  change  of  government)  "were  confounded  under 
the  common  name  of  Jacobins  ;  and  the  Jacobins  of  the  Continental  king- 
doms were  regarded  by  the  English  with  more  hatred  than  they  deserved. 
No  circumstances  could  be  more  unfavorable  to  the  best  interests  of  Europe 
than  those  which  placed  England  in  strict  alliance  with  the  superannuated 
and  abominable  governments  of  the  Continent.  The  subjects  of  those  gov- 
ernments who  wished  for  freedom  thus  became  enemies  to  England." 

Such  are  the  concessions  to  which  Mr.  Southey  is  forced,  while  all  his 
sympathies  were  with  the  English  aristocracy.  The  sympathies  of  Napoleon 
were  nobly  and  magnanimously  with  the  oppressed  people.  He  wished  to 
promote  reform,  but  he  had  seen  enough  of  blind  and  maddened  revolution. 
He  wished  to  see  the  people  restored  to  their  rights,  and  also  protected  froni 
the  desolations  of  infuriate  mobs.  In  this  view  every  step  of  his  career  is 
consistent.  He  resisted  with  equal  firmness  the  arrogance  of  aristocratic 
usurpation  and  the  encroachments  of  anarchy.  Thus,  in  strange  alliance, 
the  kings  and  the  mob  joined  hands  against  him,  and  he  became  the  idol  of 
the  millions. 

In  Naples,  while  Napoleon  was  in  Egypt,  the  Republican  party  made  an 
effort  to  throw  off  the  intolerable  tyranny  with  which  the  kingdom  was  op- 


1800.]  COURT  OF  THE  FIRST  CONSUL.  309 

pressed.  They  were,  for  a  time,  quite  successful,  and  the  prospect  of  achiev- 
ing the  emancipation  of  Naples  was  brilliant.  But  a  combined  force  of  En- 
glish, Russians,  and  Neapolitans  fell  with  such  resistless  power  upon  the 
Republicans  that  the  movement  was  crushed.  Parties  of  these  patriotic  men 
took  refuge  in  two  strong  castles.  They  were  besieged  by  the  Allies. 
Knowing  the  perfidy  of  the  Neapolitans  and  the  Russians,  and  believing  that 
the  English  would  have  some  little  sympathy  for  those  who  were  struggling 
for  freedom,  they  demanded  that  a  British  officer  should  be  brought  forward, 
and  to  him  they  capitulated.  Under  the  solemn  sanction  of  the  British  name 
that  their  persons  and  property  should  be  safe,  and  that  they  and  their  fami- 
lies should  be  conveyed  unmolested  to  France,  where  warm  hearts  would 
welcome  them,  they  threw  down  their  arms  and  opened  the  gates  of  the  for- 
tresses. This  capitulation  was  signed  by  the  three  allied  powers.  Cardinal 
Ruffb  signed  as  Viceroy  of  Naples,  Kerandy  on  the  part  of  the  Emperor  of 
Russia,  and  Captain  Foote  as  representative  of  the  King  of  England. 

But,  just  at  this  time,  Lord  Nelson,  with  his  triumphant  fleet,  entered  the 
bay.  He  had  on  board  his  ship  his  guilty  paramour,  Lady  Hamilton,  and 
the  infamous  King  and  Queen  of  Naples.  Nelson  immediately  made  signal 
to  annul  the  treaty,  declaring  that  he  would  grant  rebels  no  other  terms  than 
unconditional  submission.  The  Neapolitan  cardinal  protested  earnestly 
against  such  an  atrocious  violation  of  faith.  But  to  these  remonstrances  the 
British  admiral  would  not  listen.  He  seized  the  hated  Republicans,  and 
chained  them,  two  and  two,  on  board  his  own  fleet.  The  King  of  Naples 
had  not  sufficient  nerve  to  witness  the  horrible  scenes  which  were  to  ensue. 
He  hurried  from  the  ship  to  his  palace,  and  left  Lord  Nelson,  the  queen,  and 
Lady  Hamilton  to  do  their  pleasure.  "  Numbers,"  says  Alison,  "  were  im- 
mediately condemned  and  executed.  The  vengeance  of  the  populace  sup- 
plied what  was  wanting  in  the  celerity  of  the  criminal  tribunals.  Neither 
age,  nor  sex,  nor  rank  were  spared.  Women  as  well  as  men,  youths  of  six- 
teen and  gray-headed  men  of  seventy  were  alike  led  out  to  the  scaffold,  and 
infants  of  twelve  years  of  age  sent  into  exile.  The  Republicans  behaved  in 
almost  every  instance,  in  their  last  moments,  with  heroic  courage,  and  made 
men  forget,  in  pity  for  their  misfortunes,  the  ingratitude  or  treason  of  which 
they  had  previously  been  guilty." 

Sir  Archibald  can  allow  himself  to  call  those  noble  men  who  were  spurn- 
ing the  infamous  tyranny  of  Ferdinand  of  Naples  ungrateful  traitors.  Had 
Washington,  and  Adams,  and  Hancock  failed  and  died  upon  the  gibbet,  they 
also  would  have  been  stigmatized  as  ungrateful  traitors,  and  men,  boasting 
their  love  of  liberty,  would  heap  obloquy  upon  those  who  should  dare  to  vin- 
dicate their  cause. 

Admiral  Carraccioli,  a  man  of  the  purest  and  noblest  character,  was  one 
of  the  leaders  of  this  Republican  band.  He  had  already  passed  the  limits 
of  threescore  years  and  ten.  He  was  arrested  at  nine  o'clock  in  the  morn- 
ing, put  on  his  trial  on  board  the  British  flag-ship  at  ten,  found  guilty  and 
sentenced  to  death  at  twelve,  and  hanged  at  the  fore-yard-arm  of  the  frigate 
at  five  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  ;  after  which  his  body  was  cut  down  and  cast 
into  the  sea.  The  admiral  entreated  Lord  Nelson  to  grant  him  a  new  trial, 
as  he  had  not  been  allowed  time  to  prepare  his  defense.  Lord  Nelson  re- 


310  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.  [CHAP.  XIX. 

fused.  He  then  earnestly  implored  that  he  might  be  shot,  declaring  that  the 
disgrace  of  being  hanged  was  dreadful  to  him.  This  also  was  sternly  denied. 
As  a  last  hope,  he  sent  Lieutenant  Parkinson,  in  whose  custody  he  was,  to 
plead  with  Lady  Hamilton.  She  refused  to  be  seen.  This  abandoned  wom- 
an, however,  came  upon  the  deck  to  enjoy  the  dying  convulsions  of  the 
Republican  admiral  as  he  was  dangling  at  the  yard-arm.  For  these  infa- 
mous deeds  Lord  Nelson  received  from  the  court  of  Naples  a  diamond-hilted 
sword,  the  dukedom  of  Bronte,  a  title  which  greatly  flattered  his  vanity,  and 
an  income  of  fifteen  thousand  dollars  a  year. 

"  For  these  acts  of  cruelty,"  says  Alison,  "  no  sort  of  apology  can  or  ought 
to  be  offered.  In  every  point  of  view,  the  conduct  of  Nelson  in  this  tragic 
affair  was  inexcusable."  Southey  says,  "  To  palliate  it  would  be  vain ;  to 
justify  it  would  be  wicked.  There  is  no  alternative  for  one  who  will  not 
make  himself  participator  in  guilt  but  to  record  the  disgraceful  story  with 
sorrow  and  with  shame." 

What  would  have  been  said  of  Napoleon  could  such  a  transaction  as  this 
have  been  laid  to  his  charge,  that,  abandoning  his  noble  and  broken-hearted 
wife,  and  attaching  himself  to  an  infamous  woman,  and  becoming  the  slave 
to  her  fascinations,  he  violated  the  most  solemn  treaty,  imprisoned  and 
strangled  the  victims  of  regal  perfidy,  and  surrendered  men,  women,  and 
children  to  outrage  and  assassination  from  the  hands  of  a  ferocious  mob ! 
And  yet  the  British  government  can  rear  monuments  to  the  name  of  Nelson, 
while  it  endeavors  to  consign  the  memory  of  Napoleon  to  infamy.  Will  the 
verdict  of  the  world  ratify  this  injustice  ?  We  may  safely  answer  No  .'* 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

CROSSING    THE    ALPS. 

Renewed  Attacks  by  England  and  Austria — Proclamation — Generosity  to  Moreau — Napoleon's 
Plans  for  himself— English  Caricatures — Pass  of  the  Great  St.  Bernard — Grand  Preparations — 
Enthusiastic  Toil  of  the  Soldiers — The  young  Peasant. 

NAPOLEON,  rinding  his  proffers  of  peace  rejected  by  the  government  of  En- 
gland with  contumely  and  scorn,  and  declined  by  Austria,  now  prepared, 
with  his  wonted  energy,  to  repel  the  assaults  of  the  Allies.  As  he  sat  in  his 
cabinet  at  the  Tuileries,  the  thunders  of  their  unrelenting  onset  came  roll- 
ing in  upon  his  ear  from  all  the  frontiers  of  France.  The  hostile  fleets  of  En- 
gland swept  the  Channel,  utterly  annihilating  the  commerce  of  the  Republic, 
landing  regiments  of  armed  emigrants  upon  her  coasts,  lavishing  money  and 
munitions  of  war  to  rouse  the  partisans  of  the  Bourbons  to  civil  conflict,  and 
throwing  balls  and  shells  into  every  unprotected  town.  On  the  northern 
frontier,  Marshal  Kray  came  thundering  down  through  the  Black  Forest  to 
the  banks  of  the  Rhine  with  a  mighty  host  of  150,000  men,  to  pour  into  all 
the  northern  provinces  of  France.  Artillery  of  the  heaviest  calibre  and  a 

*  "  It  deserves,"  says  Alison,  "  to  be  recorded,  to  the  honor  of  Napoleon,  that  he  endeavored  to 
palliate  Nelson's  share  in  these  dark  transactions,  ascribing  it  to  misinformation  and  the  fascinat- 
ing ascendency  of  Lady  Hamilton." 


1800.]  CROSSING  THE  ALPS.  311 

magnificent  array  of  cavalry  accompanied  this  apparently  invincible  army. 
In  Italy,  Melas,  another  Austrian  marshal,  with  140,000  men,  aided  by  the 
whole  force  of  the  British  navy,  was  rushing  upon  the  eastern  and  southern 
borders  of  the  Republic.  The  French  troops,  disheartened  by  defeat,  had 
fled  before  their  foes  over  the  Alps,  or  were  eating  their  horses  and  their 
boots  in  the  cities  where  they  were  besieged.  From  almost  every  promon- 
tory on  the  coast  of  the  Republic,  washed  by  the  Channel  or  the  Mediterra- 
nean, the  eye  could  discern  English  frigates,  black  and  threatening,  holding 
all  France  in  a  state  of  blockade. 

One  always  finds  a  certain  pleasure  in  doing  that  which  he  can  do  well. 
Napoleon  was  fully  conscious  of  his  military  genius.  He  had,  in  behalf  of 
bleeding  humanity,  implored  peace  in  vain.  He  now,  with  alacrity  and  with 
joy,  roused  himself  to  inflict  blows  that  should  be  felt  upon  his  multitudinous 
enemies.  With  such  tremendous  energy  did  he  do  this,  that  he  received  from 
his  antagonists  the  complimentary  sobriquet  of  the  one  hundred  thousand  men. 
Wherever  Napoleon  made  his  appearance  in  the  field,  his  presence  alone 
was  considered  equivalent  to  that  force. 

The  following  proclamation  rang  like  a  trumpet  charge  over  the  hills  and 
valleys  of  France.  "  Frenchmen  !  You  have  been  anxious  for  peace.  Your 
government  has  desired  it  with  still  greater  ardor.  Its  first  efforts,  its  most 
constant  wishes,  have  been  for  its  attainment.  The  English  ministry  has 
exposed  the  secret  of  its  iniquitous  policy.  It  wishes  to  dismember  France, 
to  destroy  its  commerce,  and  either  to  erase  it  from  the  map  of  Europe,  or 
to  degrade  it  to  a  secondary  power.  England  is  willing  to  embroil  all  the 
nations  of  the  Continent  in  hostility  with  each  other,  that  she  may  enrich 
herself  with  their  spoils,  and  gain  possession  of  the  trade  of  the  world.  For 
the  attainment  of  this  object,  she  scatters  her  gold,  becomes  prodigal  of  her 
promises,  and  multiplies  her  intrigues." 

At  this  call  all  the  martial  spirits  of  France  rushed  to  arms.  Napoleon, 
supremely  devoted  to  the  welfare  of  the  state,  seemed  to  forget  even  his  own 
glory  in  the  intensity  of  his  desire  to  make  France  victorious  over  her  foes. 
With  the  most  magnanimous  superiority  to  all  feelings  of  jealousy,  he  raised 
an  army  of  150,000  men,  the  very  elite  of  the  troops  of  France,  the  veterans 
of  a  hundred  battles,  and  placed  them  in  the  hands  of  Moreau,  the  only  man 
in  France  who  could  be  called  his  rival.  Napoleon  also  presented  to  Moreau 
the  plan  of  a  campaign  in  accordance  with  his  own  energy,  boldness,  and 
genius.  Its  accomplishment  would  have  added  surpassing  brilliance  to  the 
reputation  of  Moreau.  But  the  cautious  general  was  afraid  to  adopt  it,  and 
presented  another,  perhaps  as  safe,  but  one  which  would  produce  no  dazzling 
impression  upon  the  imaginations  of  men. 

"  Your  plan,"  said  one,  a  friend  of  Moreau,  to  the  First  Consul,  "  is  grand- 
er, more  decisive,  and  even  more  sure.  But  it  is  not  adapted  to  the  slow  ancl 
cautious  genius  of  the  man  who  is  to  execute  it.  You  have  your  method  of 
making  war,  which  is  superior  to  all  others.  Moreau  has  his  own,  inferior 
certainly,  but  still  excellent.  Leave  him  to  himself.  If  you  impose  your 
ideas  upon  him,  you  will  wound  his  self-love  and  disconcert  him." 

Napoleon,  profoundly  versed  in  the  knowledge  of  the  human  heart,  prompt- 
ly replied,  "  You  are  right ;  Moreau  is  not  capable  of  grasping  the  plan  which 


312  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.  [CHAP.  XIX. 

I  have  conceived.  Let  him  follow  his  own  course.  The  plan  which  he  does 
not  understand  and  dare  not  execute  I  myself  will  carry  out  on  another  part 
of  the  theatre  of  war.  What  he  fears  to  attempt  on  the  Rhine,  I  will  ac- 
complish on  the  Alps.  The  day  may  come  when  he  will  regret  the  glory 
which  he  yields  to  me." 

These  were  proud  and  prophetic  words.  Moreau  was  moderately  victo. 
rious  upon  the  Rhine,  driving  back  the  invaders.  The  sun  of  Napoleon  soon 
rose  over  the  field  of  Marengo  in  a  blaze  of  effulgence,  which  paled  Moreau's 
twinkling  star  into  utter  obscurity.  But  we  know  not  where  upon  the  page  of 
history  to  find  an  act  of  more  lofty  generosity  than  this  surrender  of  the  no- 
blest army  of  the  Republic  to  one  who  considered  himself,  and  was  deemed 
by  others,  a  rival,  arid  thus  to  throw  open  to  him  the  theatre  of  war  where 
apparently  the  richest  laurels  were  to  be  won ;  and  we  know  not  where  to 
took  for  a  deed  more  proudly  expressive  of  self-confidence.  "  I  will  give 
Moreau,"  said  he  by  this  act,  "one  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  of  the  most 
brave  and  disciplined  soldiers  of  France,  the  victors  of  a  hundred  battles.  I 
myself  will  take  sixty  thousand  men,  new  recruits  and  the  fragments  of  regi- 
ments which  remain,  and  with  them  I  will  march  to  encounter  an  equally 
powerful  enemy  on  a  more  difficult  field  of  warfare." 

Marshal  Melas  had  spread  his  vast  host  of  one  hundred  and  forty  thousand 
Austrians  through  all  the  strongholds  of  Italy,  and  was  pressing  with  tremen- 
dous energy  and  self-confidence  upon  the  frontiers  of  France.  Napoleon, 
instead  of  marching  with  his  inexperienced  troops  to  meet  the  heads  of  the 
triumphant  columns  of  Melas,  resolved  to  climb  the  rugged  and  apparently 
inaccessible  fortresses  of  the  Alps,  and,  descending  from  the  clouds  over  path- 
less precipices,  to  fall  with  the  sweep  of  the  avalanche  upon  their  rear.  It 
was  necessary  to  assemble  this  army  at  some  favorable  point,  to  gather  in 
vast  magazines  its  munitions  of  war.  It  was  necessary  that  this  should  be 
done  in  secret,  lest  the  Austrians,  climbing  to  the  summits  of  the  Alps,  and 
defending  the  gorges  through  which  the  troops  of  Napoleon  would  be  com- 
pelled to  wind  their  difficult  and  tortuous  way,  might  render  the  passage  im- 
possible. English  and  Austrian  spies  were  prompt  to  communicate  to  the 
hostile  powers  every  movement  of  the  First  Consul. 

Napoleo  i  fixed  upon  Dijon  and  its  vicinity  as  the  rendezvous  of  his  troops. 
He,  howeA  er,  adroitly  and  completely  deceived  his  foes  by  ostentatiously  an- 
nouncing the  very  plan  he  intended  to  carry  into  operation.  Of  course,  the 
Allies  thought  that  this  was  a  foolish  attempt  to  draw  their  attention  from 
the  real  point  of  attack.  The  more  they  ridiculed  the  imaginary  army  at 
Dijon,  the  more  loudly  did  Napoleon  reiterate  his  commands  for  battalions 
and  magazines  to  be  collected  there.  The  spies  who  visited  Dijon  reported 
that  but  a  few  regiments  were  assembled  in  that  place,  and  that  the  an- 
nouncement was  clearly  a  very  weak  pretense  to  deceive.  The  print-shops 
of  London  and  Vienna  were  filled  with  caricatures  of  the  army  of  Dijon. 
The  English  especially  made  themselves  very  merry  with  Napoleon's  grand 
army  to  scale  the  Alps.  It  was  believed  that  the  energies  of  the  Republic 
were  utterly  exhausted  in  raising  the  force  which  was  given  to  Moreau.  One 
of  the  caricatures  represented  the  army  as  consisting  of  a  boy  dressed  in  his 
father's  clothes,  shouldering  a  musket  which  he  could  with  difficulty  lift,  and 


1800.] 


CROSSING  THE  ALPS. 


313 


314  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.  [CHAP.  XIX 

eating  a  piece  of  gingerbread,  and  an  old  man  with  one  arm  and  a  wooden 
leg.  The  artillery  consisted  of  a  rusty  blunderbuss.  This  derision  was  just 
what  Napoleon  desired.  Though  dwelling  in  the  shadow  of  that  mysterious 
melancholy  which  ever  enveloped  his  spirit,  he  must  have  enjoyed  in  the 
deep  recesses  of  his  soul  the  majestic  movements  of  his  plans. 

On  the  eastern  frontiers  of  France  there  surge  up,  from  luxuriant  meadows 
and  vine-clad  fields  and  hill-sides,  the  majestic  ranges  of  the  Alps,  piercing 
the  clouds,  and  soaring  with  glittering  pinnacles  into  the  region  of  perpetual 
ice  and  snow.  Vast  spurs  of  the  mountains  extend  on  each  side,  opening 
gloomy  gorges  and  frightful  defiles,  through  which  foaming  torrents  rush 
impetuously,  walled  in  by  almost  precipitous  cliffs,  whose  summits,  crowned 
with  melancholy  firs,  are  inaccessible  to  the  foot  of  man.  The  principal 
pass  over  this  enormous  ridge  was  that  of  the  Great  St.  Bernard.  The  trav- 
eler, accompanied  by  a  guide,  and  mounted  on  a  mule,  slowly  and  painfully 
ascended  a  steep  and  rugged  path,  now  crossing  a  narrow  bridge,  spanning 
a  fathomless  abyss,  again  creeping  along  the  edge  of  a  precipice,  where  the 
eagle  soared  and  screamed  over  the  fir  tops  in  the  abyss  below,  and  where  a 
perpendicular  wall  rose  to  giddy  heights  in  the  clouds  above.  The  path,  at 
times,  was  so  narrow,  that  it  seemed  that  the  mountain  goat  could  with  dif- 
ficulty find  a  foothold  for  its  slender  hoof.  A  false  step,  or  a  slip  upon  the 
icy  rocks,  would  precipitate  the  traveler,  a  mangled  corpse,  a  thousand  feet 
upon  the  fragments  of  granite  in  the  gulf  beneath.  As  higher  and  higher  he 
climbed  these  wild,  and  rugged,  and  cloud-enveloped  paths,  borne  by  the  un- 
erring instinct  of  the  faithful  mule,  his  steps  were  often  arrested  by  the  roar 
of  the  avalanche,  and  he  gazed  appalled  upon  its  resistless  rush,  as  rocks,  and 
trees,  and  earth,  and  snow,  and  ice,  swept  by  him  with  awful  and  resistless 
desolation,  far  down  into  the  dimly  discerned  torrents  which  rushed  beneath 
his  feet. 

At  God's  bidding  the  avalanche  fell.  No  precaution  could  save  the  trav- 
eler who  was  in  its  path.  He  was  instantly  borne  to  destruction,  and  buried 
where  no  voice  but  the  archangel's  trump  could  ever  reach  his  ear.  Ter- 
rific storms  of  wind  and  snow  often  swept  through  those  bleak  altitudes, 
blinding  and  smothering  the  traveler.  Hundreds  of  bodies,  like  pillars  of 
ice,  embalmed  in  snow,  are  now  sepulchred  in  those  drifts,  there  to  sleep  till 
the  fires  of  the  last  conflagration  shall  have  consumed  their  winding  sheet. 
Having  toiled  two  days  through  such  scenes  of  desolation  and  peril,  the  ad- 
venturous traveler  stands  upon  the  summit  of  the  pass,  eight  thousand  feet 
above  the  level  of  the  sea,  two  thousand  feet  higher  than  the  crest  of  Mount 
Washington,  our  own  mountain  monarch.  This  summit,  over  which  the 
path  winds,  consists  of  a  small  level  plain,  surrounded  by  mountains  of  snow 
of  still  higher  elevation. 

The  scene  here  presented  is  inexpressibly  gloomy  and  appalling.  Nature 
in  these  wild  regions  assumes  her  most  severe  and  sombre  aspect.  As  one 
emerges  from  the  precipitous  and  craggy  ascent  upon  this  Valley  of  Deso- 
lation, as  it  is  emphatically  called,  the  Convent  of  St.  Bernard  presents  itself 
to  the  view. 

This  cheerless  abode,  the  highest  spot  of  inhabited  ground  in  Europe,  has 
been  tenanted,  for  more  than  a  thousand  years,  by  a  succession  of  joyless 


1800.]  CROSSING  THE  ALPS.  315 

and  self-denying  monks,  who,  in  that  frigid  retreat  of  granite  and  ice,  en- 
deavor to  serve  their  Maker  by  rescuing  bewildered  travelers  from  the  de- 
struction with  which  they  are  ever  threatened  to  be  overwhelmed  by  the 
storms  which  battle  against  them.  In  the  middle  of  this  ice-bound  valley 
lies  a  lake,  clear,  dark,  and  cold,  whose  depths,  even  in  midsummer,  reflect 
the  eternal  glaciers  which  soar  sublimely  around.  The  descent  to  the  plains 
of  Italy  is  even  more  precipitous  and  dangerous  than  the  ascent  from  the 
green  pastures  of  France.  No  vegetation  adorns  these  dismal  and  storm- 
swept  cliffs  of  granite  and  of  ice.  The  pinion  of  the  eagle  fails  in  its  rare- 
fied air,  and  the  chamois  ventures  not  to  climb  its  steep  and  slippery  crags. 
No  human  beings  are  ever  to  be  seen  on  these  bleak  summits,  except  the 
few  shivering  travelers  who  tarry  for  an  hour  to  receive  the  hospitality  of 
the  convent,  and  the  hooded  monks,  wrapped  in  thick  and  coarse  garments, 
with  their  staves  and  their  dogs,  groping  through  the  storms  of  sleet  and 
snow.  Even  the  wood,  which  burns  with  frugal  faintness  on  their  hearths, 
is  borne,  in  painful  burdens,  up  the  mountain  sides  upon  the  shoulders  of  the 
monks. 

Such  was  the  barrier  which  Napoleon  intended  to  surmount,  that  he  might 
fall  upon  the  rear  of  the  Austrians,  who  were  battering  down  the  walls  of 
Genoa,  where  Massena  was  besieged,  and  who  were  thundering,  flushed  with 
victory,  at  the  very  gates  of  Nice.  Over  this  wild  mountain  pass,  where  the 
mule  could  with  difficulty  tread,  and  where  no  wheel  had  ever  rolled,  or  by 
any  possibility  could  roll,  Napoleon  contemplated  transporting  an  army  of 
sixty  thousand  men,  with  ponderous  artillery  and  tons  of  cannon  balls,  and 
baggage,  and  all  the  bulky  munitions  of  war.  England  and  Austria  laughed 
the  idea  to  scorn.  The  achievement  of  such  an  enterprise  was  apparently 
impossible. 

Napoleon,  however,  was  as  skillful  in  the  arrangement  of  the  minutest  de- 
tails as  in  the  conception  of  the  grandest  combinations.  Though  he  resolved 
to  take  the  mass  of  his  army,  forty  thousand  strong,  across  the  pass  of  the 
Great  St.  Bernard,  yet,  to  distract  the  attention  of  the  Austrians,  he  arranged 
also  to  send  small  divisions  across  the  passes  of  Saint  Gothard,  Little  St. 
Bernard,  and  Mount  Cenis.  He  would  thus  accumulate  suddenly,  and  to 
the  amazement  of  the  enemy,  a  body  of  sixty-five  thousand  men  upon  the 
plains  of  Italy.  This  force,  descending  like  an  apparition  from  the  clouds, 
in  the  rear  of  the  Austrian  army,  headed  by  Napoleon,  and  cutting  off  all 
communication  with  Austria,  might  indeed  strike  a  panic  into  the  hearts  of 
the  assailants  of  France. 

The  troops  were  collected  in  various  places  in  the  vicinity  of  Dijon,  ready 
at  a  moment's  warning  to  assemble  at  the  place  of  rendezvous,  and  with  a 
rush  to  enter  the  defile.  Immense  magazines  of  wheat,  biscuit,  and  oats  had 
been  noiselessly  collected  in  different  places.  Large  sums  of  specie  had 
been  forwarded,  to  hire  the  services  of  every  peasant,  with  his  mule,  who  in 
habited  the  valleys  among  the  mountains.  Mechanic  shops,  as  by  magic, 
suddenly  rose  along  the  path,  well  supplied  with  skillful  artisans,  to  repair 
all  damages,  to  dismount  the  artillery,  to  divide  the  gun-carriages  and  the 
baggage-wagons  into  fragments,  that  they  might  be  transported,  on  the  backs 
of  men  and  mules,  over  the  steep  and  rugged  way.  For  the  ammunition  a 


316  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.  [CHAP.  XIX 

vast  number  of  small  boxes  were  prepared,  which  could  easily  be  packed 
upon  the  mules.  A  second  company  of  mechanics,  with  camp  forges,  had 
been  provided,  to  cross  the  mountain  with  the  first  division,  and  rear  their 
shops  upon  the  plain  on  the  other  side,  to  mend  the  broken  harness,  to  recon- 
struct the  carriages,  and  remount  the  pieces. 

On  each  side  of  the  mountain  a  hospital  was  established,  and  supplied  with 
every  comfort  for  the  sick  and  the  wounded.  The  foresight  of  Napoleon 
extended  even  to  sending,  at  the  very  last  moment,  to  the  convent  upon  the 
summit,  an  immense  quantity  of  bread,  cheese,  and  wine.  Each  soldier,  to 
his  surprise,  was  to  find,  as  he  arrived  at  the  summit,  exhausted  with  hercu- 
lean toil,  a  generous  slice  of  bread  and  cheese,  with  a  refreshing  cup  of  wine, 
presented  to  him  by  the  monks.  All  these  minute  details  Napoleon  ar- 
ranged, while  at  the  same  time  he  was  doing  the  work  of  a  dozen  energetic 
men  in  reorganizing  the  whole  structure  of  society  in  France.  If  toil  pays 
for  greatness,  Napoleon  purchased  the  renown  which  he  attained.  And  yet 
his  body  and  his  mind  were  so  constituted  that  his  sleepless  activity  was  to 
him  a  pleasure. 

The  appointed  hour  at  last  arrived.  On  the  7th  of  May,  1800,  Napoleon 
entered  his  carriage  at  the  Tuileries,  saying, 

"  Good-by,  my  dear  Josephine  !  I  must  go  to  Italy.  I  shall  not  forget 
you,  and  I  will  not  be  absent  long." 

At  a  word,  the  whole  majestic  array  was  in  motion.  Like  a  meteor  he 
swept  over  France.  He  arrived  at  the  foot  of  the  mountains.  The  troops 
and  all  the  paraphernalia  of  war  were  on  the  spot  at  the  designated  hour. 
Napoleon  immediately  appointed  a  very  careful  inspection.  Every  foot-sol- 
dier and  every  horseman  passed  before  his  scrutinizing  eye.  If  a  shoe  was 
ragged,  or  a  jacket  torn,  or  a  musket  injured,  the  defect  was  immediately  re- 
paired. His  glowing  words  inspired  the  troops  with  the  ardor  which  was 
burning  in  his  own  bosom.  The  genius  of  the  First  Consul  was  infused  into 
the  mighty  host.  Each  man  exerted  himself  to  the  utmost.  The  eye  of 
their  chief  was  every  where,  and  his  cheering  voice  roused  the  army  to  al- 
most superhuman  exertions.  Two  skillful  engineers  had  been  sent  to  ex- 
plore the  path,  and  to  do  what  could  be  done  in  the  removal  of  obstructions. 
They  returned  with  an  appalling  recital  of  the  apparently  insurmountable 
difficulties  of  the  way. 

"  Is  it  possible,"  inquired  Napoleon,  "  to  cross  the  pass  ?" 

"  Perhaps,"  was  the  hesitating  reply,  "it  is  within  the  limits  of  possibility." 

"  Forward,  then,"  was  the  energetic  response. 

Each  man  was  required  to  carry,  besides  his  arms,  food  for  several  days 
and  a  large  quantity  of  cartridges.  As  the  sinuosities  of  the  precipitous  path 
could  only  be  trod  in  single  file,  the  heavy  wheels  were  taken  from  the  car- 
riages, and  each,  slung  upon  a  pole,  was  borne  by  two  men.  The  task  for 
the  foot-soldiers  was  far  less  than  for  the  horsemen.  The  latter  clambered 
up  on  foot,  dragging  their  horses  after  them.  The  descent  was  very  danger- 
ous. The  dragoon,  in  the  steep  and  narrow  path,  was  compelled  to  walk 
before  his  horse.  At  the  least  stumble  he  was  exposed  to  being  plunged 
headlong  into  the  abysses  yawning  before  him.  In  this  way  many  horses 
and  several  riders  perished.  To  transport  the  heavy  cannon  and  howitzers, 


1800.]  CROSSING  THE  ALPS.  317 

pine  logs  were  split  in  the  centre,  the  parts  hollowed  out,  and  the  guns  sunk 
into  the  grooves.  A  long  string  of  mules,  in  single  file,  were  attached  to  the 
ponderous  machines  of  war,  to  drag  them  up  the  slippery  ascent.  The  mules 
soon  began  to  fail,  and  then  the  men,  with  hearty  good-will,  brought  their 
own  shoulders  into  the  harness — a  hundred  men  to  a  single  gun.  Napoleon 
offered  the  peasants  two  hundred  dollars  for  the  transportation  of  a  twelve- 
pounder  over  the  pass.  The  love  of  gain  was  not  strong  enough  to  lure 
them  to  such  tremendous  exertions.  But  Napoleon's  fascination  over  the 
hearts  of  his  soldiers  was  a  more  powerful  impulse.  With  shouts  of  encour- 
agement they  toiled  at  the  cables,  successive  bands  of  a  hundred  men  re- 


DRAWING  A  GUN  OVER  GREAT  ST.  BERNARD. 


lieving  each  other  every  half  hour.     High  on  those  craggy  steeps,  gleaming 
through  the  mist,  the  glittering  bands  of  armed  men  like  phantoms  appear- 
VOL.  II.— B 


318  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.  [CHAP.  XIX. 

ed.  The  eagle  wheeled  and  screamed  beneath  their  feet.  The  mountain 
goat,  affrighted  by  the  unwonted  spectacle,  bounded  away,  and  paused  in 
bold  relief  upon  the  cliff,  to  gaze  upon  the  martial  array  which  so  suddenly 
had  peopled  the  solitude. 

When  they  approached  any  spot  of  very  especial  difficulty,  the  trumpets 
sounded  the  charge,  which  re-echoed,  with  sublime  reverberations,  from  pin- 
nacle to  pinnacle  of  rock  and  ice.  Animated  by  these  bugle  notes,  the  sol- 
diers strained  every  nerve  as  if  rushing  upon  the  foe.  Napoleon  offered  to 
these  bands  the  same  reward  which  he  had  promised  to  the  peasants.  But 
to  a  man  they  refused  the  gold.  They  had  imbibed  the  spirit  of  their  chief, 
his  enthusiasm,  and  his  proud  superiority  to  all  mercenary  motives.  "  We 
are  not  toiling  for  money,"  said  they,  "  but  for  your  approval,  and  to  share 
your  glory." 

Napoleon,  with  his  wonderful  tact,  had  introduced  a  slight  change  into 
the  artillery  service,  which  was  productive  of  immense  moral  results.  The 
gun  carriages  had  heretofore  been  driven  by  mere  wagoners,  who,  being  con- 
sidered not  as  soldiers,  but  as  servants,  and  sharing  not  in  the  glory  of  vic- 
tory, were  uninfluenced  by  any  sentiment  of  honor.  At  the  first  approach 
of  danger,  they  were  ready  to  cut  their  traces  and  gallop  from  the  field, 
leaving  their  cannon  in  the  hands  of  the  enemy. 

Napoleon  said,  "  The  cannoneer  who  brings  his  piece  into  action,  performs 
as  valuable  a  service  as  the  cannoneer  who  works  it.  He  runs  the  same 
danger,  and  requires  the  same  moral  stimulus,  which  is  the  sense  of  honor." 

He  therefore  converted  the  artillery  drivers  into  soldiers,  and  clothed  them 
in  the  uniform  of  their  respective  regiments.  They  constituted  twelve  thou- 
sand horsemen,  who  were  animated  with  as  much  pride  in  carrying  their 
pieces  into  action,  and  in  bringing  them  off  with  rapidity  and  safety,  as  the 
gunners  felt  in  loading,  directing,  and  discharging  them.  It  was  now  the 
great  glory  of  these  men  to  take  care  of  their  guns.  They  loved,  tenderly, 
the  merciless  monsters.  They  lavished  caresses  and  terms  of  endearment 
upon  the  glittering,  polished,  death-dealing  brass.  The  heart  of  man  is  a 
strange  enigma.  Even  when  most  degraded,  it  needs  something  to  love. 
These  bloodstained  soldiers,  brutalized  by  vice,  amid  all  the  horrors  of  bat- 
tle, lovingly  fondled  the  murderous  machines  of  war,  responding  to  the  ap- 
peal, "  Call  me  pet  names,  dearest."  The  unrelenting  gun  was  the  stern 
cannoneer's  lady-love.  He  kissed  it  with  unwashed,  mustached  lip.  In  rude 
and  rough  devotion  he  was  ready  to  die  rather  than  abandon  the  only  object 
of  his  idolatrous  homage.  Consistently  he  baptized  the  life-devouring  mon- 
ster with  blood.  Affectionately  he  named  it  Mary,  Emma,  Lizzie.  In  cross- 
ing the  Alps,  dark  night  came  on  as  some  cannoneers  were  floundering 
through  drifts  of  snow,  toiling  at  their  gun.  They  would  not  leave  the  gun 
alone  in  the  cold  storm  to  seek  for  themselves  a  dry  bivouac ;  but,  like 
brothers  guarding  a  sister,  they  threw  themselves,  for  the  night,  upon  the 
bleak  and  frozen  snow  by  its  side.  It  was  the  genius  of  Napoleon  which 
thus  penetrated  these  mysterious  depths  of  the  human  soul,  and  called  to  his 
aid  those  mighty  energies.  "It  is  nothing  but  imagination,"  said  one  once 
to  Napoleon.  "Nothing  but  imagination .'"  he  rejoined.  "Imagination  rules 
the  world" 


1800.]  CROSSING  THE  ALPS.  319 

When  they  arrived  at  the  summit,  each  soldier  found,  to  his  surprise  and 
joy,  the  abundant  comforts  which  Napoleon's  kind  care  had  provided.  One 
would  have  anticipated  there  a  scene  of  terrible  confusion.  To  feed  an  army 
of  forty  thousand  hungry  men  is  not  a  light  undertaking.  Yet  every  thing 
was  so  carefully  arranged,  and  the  influence  of  Napoleon  so  boundless,  that 
not  a  soldier  left  the  ranks.  Each  man  received  his  slice  of  bread  and  cheese, 
and  quaffed  his  cup  of  wine,  and  passed  on.  It  wras  a  point  of  honor  for  no 
one  to  stop.  Whatever  obstructions  were  in  the  way  were  to  be  at  all  haz- 
ards surmounted,  that  the  long  file,  extending  nearly  twenty  miles,  might  not 
be  thrown  into  confusion.  The  descent  was  more  perilous  than  the  ascent. 
But  fortune  seemed  to  smile.  The  sky  was  clear,  the  weather  delightful, 
and  in  four  days  the  whole  army  was  reassembled  on  the  plains  of  Italy. 

Napoleon  had  sent  Berthier  forward  to  receive  the  division  and  to  super- 


320  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.  [CHAP.  XX. 

intend  all  necessary  repairs,  while  he  himself  remained  to  press  forward  the 
mighty  host.  He  was  the  last  man  to  cross  the  mountains.  Seated  upon 
a  mule,  with  a  young  peasant  for  his  guide,  slowly  and  thoughtfully  he  as- 
cended those  silent  solitudes.  He  was  dressed  in  the  gray  coat  which  he 
always  wore.  Art  has  pictured  him  as  bounding  up  the  cliff,  proudly  mount- 
ed on  a  prancing  charger ;  but  truth  presents  him  in  an  attitude  more  sim- 
ple and  more  sublime.  Even  the  young  peasant  who  acted  as  his  guide  was 
entirely  unconscious  of  the  distinguished  rank  of  the  plain  traveler  whose 
steps  he  was  conducting. 

Much  of  the  way  Napoleon  was  silent,  abstracted  in  thought.  And  yet 
he  found  time  for  human  sympathy.  He  drew  from  his  young  and  artless 
guide  the  secrets  of  his  heart.  The  young  peasant  was  sincere  and  virtuous. 
He  loved  a  fair  maid  among  the  mountains.  She  loved  him.  It  was  his 
heart's  great  desire  to  have  her  for  his  own.  He  was  poor,  and  had  neither 
house  nor  land  to  support  a  family.  Napoleon,  struggling  with  all  his  ener- 
gies against  combined  England  and  Austria,  and  with  all  the  cares  of  an 
army,  on  the  march  to  meet  one  hundred  and  twenty  thousand  foes,  crowd- 
ing his  mind,  won  the  confidence  of  his  companion,  and  elicited  this  artless 
recital  of  love  and  desire. 

As  Napoleon  dismissed  his  guide  with  an  ample  reward,  he  drew  from  his 
pocket  a  pencil,  and  upon  a  loose  piece  of  paper  wrote  a  few  lines,  which  he 
requested  the  young  man  to  give,  on  his  return,  to  the  Administrator  of  the 
Army  upon  the  other  side.  When  the  guide  returned  and  presented  the 
note,  he  found,  to  his  unbounded  surprise  and  delight,  that  he  had  conducted 
Napoleon  over  the  mountains,  and  that  Napoleon  had  given  him  a  field  and 
a  house.  He  was  thus  enabled  to  be  married,  and  to  realize  all  the  dreams 
of  his  modest  ambition.  Generous  impulses  must  have  been  instinctive  in 
a  heart  which,  in  a  hour  so  fraught  with  mighty  events,  could  turn  from  the 
toils  of  empire  and  of  war,  to  find  refreshment  in  sympathizing  with  a  peas- 
ant's love.  This  young  man  but  recently  died,  having  passed  his  quiet  life 
in  the  enjoyment  of  the  field  and  the  cottage  which  had  been  given  him  by 
the  ruler  of  the  world. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

MARENGO. 

The  Fort  of  Bard — Consternation  of  Melas — Solicitude  of  Napoleon — Proclamation — Desaix — 
Montebello — Arrival  of  Desaix — Terrific  Battle — Death  of  Desaix — Consequences  of  War — • 
Instinctive  outburst  of  Emotion — Letter  to  the  Emperor  of  Austria — Terms  of  Capitulation—- 
Napoleon  enters  Milan — Enthusiastic  Reception  in  Paris. 

THE  army  now  pressed  forward,  with  great  alacrity,  along  the  banks  of 
the  Aosta.  They  were  threading  a  beautiful  valley,  rich  in  verdure,  and 
blooming  beneath  the  sun  of  early  spring.  Cottages,  vineyards  and  or- 
chards in  full  bloom,  embellished  their  path,  while  upon  each  side  of  them 
rose,  in  majestic  swell,  the  fir-clad  sides  of  the  mountains.  The  Austrians, 
pressing  against  the  frontiers  of  France,  had  no  conception  of  the  storm 
which  had  so  suddenly  gathered,  and  which  was,  with  resistless  sweep,  ap* 


1800.]  MARENGO.  321 

preaching  their  rear.  The  French  soldiers,  elated  with  the  achievement 
they  had  accomplished,  and  full  of  confidence  in  their  leader,  marched  gayly 
on.  But  the  valley  before  them  began  to  grow  more  and  more  narrow.  The 
mountains-  on  either  side  rose  more  precipitous  and  craggy.  The  Aosta, 
crowded  into  a  narrow  channel,  rushed  foaming  over  the  rocks,  leaving  bare- 
ly room  for  a  road  along  the  side  of  the  mountain.  Suddenly  the  march  of 
the  whole  army  was  arrested  by  a  fort,  built  upon  an  inaccessible  rock,  which 
rose  pyramidally  from  the  bed  of  the  stream.  Bristling  cannon,  skillfully 
arranged  on  well-constructed  bastions,  swept  the  pass,  and  rendered  further 
advance  apparently  impossible. 

Rapidly  the  tidings  of  this  unexpected  obstruction  spread  from  the  van  to 
the  rear.  Napoleon  immediately  hastened  to  the  front  ranks.  Climbing  the 
mountain  opposite  the  fort  by  a  goat  path,  he  threw  himself  down  upon  the 
ground,  where  a  few  bushes  concealed  his  person  from  the  shot  of  the  enemy, 
and  with  his  telescope  long  and  carefully  examined  the  fort  and  the  surround- 
ing crags.  He  perceived  one  elevated  spot,  far  above  the  fort,  where  a  can- 
non might  by  possibility  be  drawn.  From  that  position  its  shot  could  be 
plunged  upon  the  unprotected  bastions  below. 


PASSING   THE   FORT   OF   BARD. 


Upon  the  face  of  the  opposite  cliff,  far  beyond  the  reach  of  cannon-balls, 
he  discerned  a  narrow  shelf  in  the  rock,  by  which  he  thought  it  possible  that 
a  man  could  pass.  The  inarch  was  immediately  commenced,  in  single  file, 
along  this  giddy  ridge.  And  even  the  horses,  inured  to  the  terrors  of  the 
Great  St.  Bernard,  were  led  by  their  riders  upon  the  narrow  path  which  a- 
horse's  hoof  had  never  trod  before,  and  probably  will  never  tread  again. 
The  Austrians  in  the  fort  had  the  mortification  of  seeing  thirty-five  thousand 
soldiers,  with  numerous  horses,  defile  along  this  airy  line,  as  if  adhering  to 
the  side  of  the  rock,  but  neither  bullet  nor  ball  could  harm  them. 


322  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.  [CHAP.  XX. 

Napoleon  ascended  this  mountain  ridge,  and  upon  its  summit,  quite  ex- 
hausted with  days  and  nights  of  sleeplessness  and  toil,  laid  himself  down  in 
the  shadow  of  the  rock  and  fell  asleep.  The  long  line  filed  carefully  and 
silently  by,  each  soldier  hushing  his  comrade,  that  the  repose  of  their  beloved 
chieftain  might  not  be  disturbed.  It  was  an  interesting  spectacle  to  witness 
the  tender  affection  beaming  from  the  countenances  of  these  bronzed  and 
war-worn  veterans,  as  every  foot  trod  softly,  and  each  eye,  in  passing,  was 
riveted  upon  the  slender  form  and  pale  and  wasted  cheek  of  the  sleeping 
Napoleon. 

The  artillery  could,  by  no  possibility,  be  thus  transported ;  and  an  army 
without  artillery  is  a  soldier  without  weapons.  The  Austrian  commander 
wrote  to  Melas  that  he  had  seen  an  army  of  thirty-five  thousand  men  and 
four  thousand  horse  creeping  by  the  fort,  along  the  face  of  Mount  Albaredo. 
He  assured  the  commander-in-chief,  however,  that  not  one  single  piece  of 
artillery  had  passed,  or  could  pass,  beneath  the  guns  of  his  fortress.  When 
he  was  writing  this  letter,  already  had  one  half  the  cannon  and  ammunition 
of  the  army  been  conveyed  by  the  fort,  and  were  safely  and  rapidly  proceed- 
ing on  their  way  down  the  valley. 

In  the  darkness  of  the  night,  trusty  men,  with  great  caution  and  silence, 
strewed  hay  and  straw  upon  the  road.  The  wheels  of  the  lumbering  car- 
riages were  carefully  bound  with  cloths  and  wisps  of  straw,  and,  with  axles 
well  oiled,  were  drawn  by  the  hands  of  these  picked  men  beneath  the  very 
walls  of  the  fortress,  and  within  half  pistol-shot  of  its  guns.  In  two  nights 
the  artillery  and  the  baggage-trains  were  thus  passed  along,  and  in  a  few 
days  the  fort  itself  was  compelled  to  surrender. 

Melas,  the  Austrian  commander,  now  awoke,  in  consternation,  to  a  sense 
of  his  peril.  Napoleon — the  dreaded  Napoleon — had,  as  by  a  miracle,  cross- 
ed the  Alps.  He  had  cut  off  all  his  supplies,  and  was  shutting  the  Austrians 
up  from  any  possibility  of  retreat.  Bewildered  by  the  magnitude  of  his  peril, 
he  no  longer  thought  of  forcing  his  march  upon  Paris.  The  invasion  of 
France  was  abandoned.  His  whole  energies  were  directed  to  opening  for 
himself  a  passage  back  to  Austria.  The  most  cruel  perplexities  agitated 
him.  From  the  very  pinnacle  of  victory,  he  was  in  danger  of  descending  to 
the  deepest  abyss  of  defeat. 

It  was  also  with  Napoleon  an  hour  of  intense  solicitude.  He  had  but  six- 
ty thousand  men,  two  thirds  of  whom  were  new  soldiers  who  had  never  seen 
a  shot  fired  in  earnest,  with  whom  he  was  to  arrest  the  march  of  a  desperate 
army  of  one  hundred  and  twenty  thousand  veterans,  abundantly  provided 
with  all  the  most  efficient  machinery  of  war.  There  were  many  paths  by 
which  Melas  might  escape  at  leagues'  distance  from  each  other.  It  was 
necessary  for  Napoleon  to  divide  his  little  band,  that  he  might  guard  them 
all.  He  was  liable  at  any  moment  to  have  a  division  of  his  army  attacked 
by  an  overwhelming  force,  and  cut  to  pieces  before  it  could  receive  any  re- 
enforcements.  He  ate  not,  he  slept  not,  he  rested  not.  Day  and  night,  and 
night  and  day,  he  was  on  horseback,  pale,  pensive,  apparently  in  feeble 
health,  and  interesting  every  beholder  with  his  grave  and  melancholy  beau- 
ty. His  scouts  were  out  in  every  direction.  He  studied  all  the  possible 
movements  and  combinations  of  his  foes,  Rapidly  he  overran  Lombardy, 


1800.]  MARENGO.  323 

and  entered  Milan  in  triumph.  Melas  anxiously  concentrated  his  forces  to 
break  through  the  net  with  which  he  was  entangled.  He  did  every  thing  in 
his  power  to  deceive  Napoleon  by  various  feints,  that  the  point  of  his  con- 
templated attack  might  not  be  known.  Napoleon,  in  the  following  clarion 
tones,  appealed  to  the  enthusiasm  of  his  troops : 

"  Soldiers  !  when  we  began  our  march,  one  department  of  France  was  in 
the  hands  of  the  enemy.  Consternation  pervaded  the  south  of  the  Repub- 
lic. You  advanced.  Already  the  French  territory  is  delivered.  Joy  and 
hope  in  our  country  have  succeeded  to  consternation  and  fear.  The  enemy, 
terror-struck,  seeks  only  to  regain  his  frontiers.  You  have  taken  his  hospi- 
tals, his  magazines,  his  reserve  parks.  The  first  act  of  the  campaign  is  fin- 
ished. Millions  of  men  address  you  in  strains  of  praise.  But  shall  we  al- 
low our  audacious  enemies  to  violate  with  impunity  the  territory  of  the  Re- 
public ?  Will  you  permit  the  army  to  escape  which  has  carried  terror  into 
your  families?  You  will  not.  March,  then,  to  meet  it.  Tear  from  its 
brows  the  laurels  it  has  won.  Teach  the  world  that  a  malediction  attends 
those  who  violate  the  territory  of  the  Great  People.  The  result  of  our  ef- 
forts will  be  unclouded  glory  and  a  durable  peace !" 

The  very  day  Napoleon  left  Paris,  Desaix  arrived  in  France  from  Egypt. 
Frank,  sincere,  upright,  and  punctiliously  honorable,  he  was  one  of  the  few 
whom  Napoleon  truly  loved.  Desaix  regarded  Napoleon  as  infinitely  his 
superior,  and  looked  up  to  him  with  a  species  of  adoration ;  he  loved  him 
with  a  fervor  of  feeling  which  amounted  almost  to  a  passion.  Napoleon, 
touched  by  the  affection  of  a  heart  so  noble,  requited  it  with  the  most  confid- 
ing friendship. 

Desaix,  upon  his  arrival  in  Paris,  found  letters  for  him  there  from  the  First 
Consul.  As  he  read  the  confidential  lines,  he  was  struck  with  the  melan-- 
choly  air  with  which  they  were  pervaded.  "  Alas  !"  said  he,  "  Napoleon  has 
gained  every  thing,  and  yet  he  is  unhappy.  I  must  hasten  to  meet  him." 
Without  delay  he  crossed  the  Alps,  and  arrived  at  the  head-quarters  of  Na- 
poleon but  a  few  days  before  the  battle  of  Marengo.  They  passed  the  whole 
night  together,  talking  over  the  events  of  Egypt  and  the  prospects  of  France. 
Napoleon  felt  greatly  strengthened  by  the  arrival  of  his  noble  friend,  and  im- 
mediately assigned  to  him  the  command  of  a  division  of  the  army.  "  De- 
saix," said  he,  "  is  my  sheet  anchor." 

"  You  have  had  a  long  interview  with  Desaix,"  said  Bourrienne  to  Napo- 
leon the  next  morning. 

"  Yes,"  he  replied,  "  but  I  had  my  reasons.  As  soon  as  I  return  to  Paris 
I  shall  make  him  Minister  of  War.  He  shall  always  be  my  lieutenant.  I 
would  make  him  a  prince  if  I  could.  He  is  of  the  heroic  mould  of  antiq- 
uity !" 

Napoleon  was  fully  aware  that  a  decisive  battle  would  soon  take  place. 
Melas  was  rapidly,  from  all  points,  concentrating  his  army.  The  following 
laconic  and  characteristic  order  was  issued  by  the  First  Consul  to  Lannes 
and  Murat : 

"  Gather  your  forces  at  the  River  Stradella.  On  the  8th  or  9th,  at  the  latest, 
you  will  have  on  your  hands  fifteen  or  eighteen  thousand  Austrians.  Meet 
them,  and  cut  them  to  pieces.  It  will  be  so  many  enemies  less  upon  our 


324  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.  [CHAP.  XX. 

hands  on  the  day  of  the  decisive  battle  we  are  to  expect  with  the  entire  army 
ofMelas." 

The  prediction  was  true.  An  Austrian  force  advanced,  eighteen  thousand 
strong.  Lannes  met  them  upon  the  field  of  Montebello.  They  were  strong- 
ly posted,  with  batteries  ranged  upon  the  hill-sides  which  swept  the  whole 
plain.  It  was  of  the  utmost  importance  that  this  body  should  be  prevented 
from  combining  with  the  other  vast  forces  of  the  Austrians.  Lannes  had 
but  eight  thousand  men.  Could  he  sustain  the  unequal  conflict  for  a  few 
hours,  Victor,  who  was  some  miles  in  the  rear,  could  come  up  with  a  re- 
serve of  four  thousand  men.  The  French  soldiers,  fully  conscious  of  the  odds 
against  which  they  were  to  contend,  and  of  the  carnage  into  the  midst  of 
which  they  were  plunging,  with  shouts  of  enthusiasm  rushed  upon  their  foes. 
Instantaneously  a  storm  of  grapeshot  from  all  the  batteries  swept  through  his 
ranks.  Said  Lannes,  "  /  could  hear  the  bones  crash  in  my  division  like  glass 
in  a  hail-storm" 

For  nine  long  hours,  from  eleven  in  the  morning  till  eight  at  night,  the 
horrid  carnage  continued.  Again  and  again  the  mangled,  bleeding,  wasted 
columns  were  rallied  to  the  charge.  At  last,  when  three  thousand  French- 
men were  strewn  dead  upon  the  ground,  the  Austrians  broke  and  fled,  leav- 
ing also  three  thousand  mutilated  corpses  and  six  thousand  prisoners  behind 
them.  Napoleon,  hastening  to  the  aid  of  his  lieutenant,  arrived  upon  the  field 
just  in  time  to  see  the  battle  won.  He  rode  up  to  Lannes.  The  intrepid 
soldier  stood  in  the  midst  of  mounds  of  the  dead,  his  sword  dripping  with 
blood  in  his  exhausted  hand,  his  face  blackened  with  powder  and  smoke,  and 
his  uniform  soiled  and  tattered  by  the  long  and  terrific  strife.  Napoleon  si- 
lently but  proudly  smiled  upon  the  heroic  general,  and  forgot  not  his  reward. 
From  this  battle,  Lannes  received  the  title  of  Duke  of  Montebello,  a  title  by 
which  his  family  is  distinguished  to  the  present  day. 

This  was  the  opening  of  the  campaign.  It  inspired  the  French  with  en- 
thusiasm ;  it  nerved  the  Austrians  to  despair.  Melas  now  determined  to 
make  a  desperate  effort  to  break  through  the  toils.  Napoleon,  with  intense 
solicitude,  was  watching  every  movement  of  his  foe,  knowing  not  upon  what 
point  the  onset  would  fall.  Before  daybreak  on  the  morning  of  the  14th  of 
June,  Melas,  having  accumulated  forty  thousand  men,  including  seven  thou- 
sand cavalry  and  two  hundred  pieces  of  cannon,  made  an  impetuous  assault 
upon  the  French,  but  twenty  thousand  in  number,  drawn  up  upon  the  plain 
of  Marengo.  Desaix,  with  a  reserve  of  six  thousand  men,  was  at  such  a  dis- 
tance, nearly  thirty  miles  from  Marengo,  that  he  could  not  possibly  be  re- 
called before  the  close  of  the  clay.  The  danger  was  frightful  that  the 
French  would  be  entirely  cut  to  pieces  before  any  succor  could  arrive. 

But  the  quick  ear  of  Desaix  caught  the  sound  of  the  heavy  cannonade  as 
it  came  booming  over  the  plain  like  distant  thunder.  He  sprung  from  his 
couch  and  listened.  The  heavy  and  uninterrupted  roar  proclaimed  a  pitched 
battle,  and  he  was  alarmed  for  his  beloved  chief.  Immediately  he  roused  his 
troops,  and  they  started  upon  the  rush  to  succor  their  comrades.  Napoleon 
dispatched  courier  after  courier  to  hurry  the  division  along,  while  his  troops 
stood  firm  through  terrific  hours  as  their  ranks  were  plowed  by  the  murder- 
ous discharges  of  their  foes.  At  last,  the  destruction  was  too  awful  for  mor- 


1800.]  MARENGO.  325 

tal  men  to  endure.  Many  divisions  of  the  army  broke  and  fled,  crying,  "All 
is  lost — save  himself  who  can  /" 

A  scene  of  frightful  disorder  ensued.  The  whole  plain  was  covered  with 
fugitives,  swept  like  an  inundation  before  the  multitudinous  Austrians.  Na- 
poleon still  held  a  few  squares  together,  who  slowly  and  sullenly  retreated, 
while  two  hundred  pieces  of  artillery,  closely  pressing  them,  poured  incessant 
death  into  their  ranks.  Every  foot  of  ground  was  left  encumbered  with  the 
dead.  It  was  now  three  o'clock  in  the  afternoon.  Melas,  exhausted  with 
toil  and  assured  that  he  had  gained  a  complete  victory,  left  General  Zach  to 
finish  the  work.  He  retired  to  his  head-quarters,  and  immediately  dispatched 
couriers  all  over  Europe  to  announce  the  great  victory  of  Marengo.  "  Me- 
las is  too  sanguine,"  said  an  Austrian  veteran,  who  had  before  encountered 
Napoleon  at  Arcola  and  Rivoli ;  "  depend  upon  it,  our  day's  work  is  not  vet 
done.  Napoleon  will  yet  be  upon  us  with  his  reserve." 

Just  then  the  anxious  eye  of  the  First  Consul  espied  the  solid  columns  of 
Desaix  entering  the  plain.  Desaix,  plunging  his  spurs  into  his  horse,  out- 
stripped all  the  rest,  and  galloped  into  the  presence  of  Napoleon.  As  he 
cast  a  glance  over  the  wild  confusion  and  devastation  of  the  field,  he  ex- 
claimed, hurriedly, 

"  I  see  that  the  battle  is  lost.  I  suppose  I  can  do  no  more  for  you  than 
to  secure  your  retreat." 

"  By  no  means,"  Napoleon  replied,  with  apparently  as  much  composure 
as  if  he  had  been  sitting  by  his  own  fireside  ;  "  the  battle,  I  trust,  is  gained. 
Charge  with  your  column.  The  disordered  troops  will  rally  in  your  rear." 

Like  a  rock,  Desaix,  with  his  solid  phalanx  of  ten  thousand  men,  met  the 
on-rolling  billow  of  Austrian  victory.  At  the  same  time,  Napoleon  dispatch- 
ed an  order  to  Kellerman  with  his  cavalry  to  charge  the  triumphant  column 
of  the  Austrians  in  flank.  It  was  the  work  of  a  moment,  and  the  whole  as- 
pect of  the  field  wras  changed.  Napoleon  rode  along  the  lines  of  those  on 
the  retreat,  exclaiming, 

"  My  friends,  we  have  retreated  far  enough.  It  is  now  our  turn  to  ad- 
vance. Recollect  that  I  am  in  the  habit  of  sleeping  on  the  field  of  battle." 

The  fugitives,  reanimated  by  the  arrival  of  the  reserve,  immediately  ral- 
lied in  their  rear.  The  double  charge  in  front  and  flank  was  instantly  made. 
The  Austrians  were  checked  and  staggered.  A  tornado  of  bullets  from  De- 
saix's  division  swept  their  ranks.  They  poured  an  answering  volley  into  the 
bosoms  of  the  French.  A  bullet  pierced  the  breast  of  Desaix,  and  he  fell 
and  almost  immediately  expired.  His  last  words  were, 

"  Tell  the  First  Consul  that  my  only  regret  in  dying  is  to  have  perished 
before  having  done  enough  to  live  in  the  recollection  of  posterity." 

The  soldiers,  who  devotedly  loved  him,  saw  his  fall,  and  rushed  more 
madly  on  to  avenge  his  death.  The  swollen  tide  of  uproar,  confusion,  and 
dismay  now  turned,  and  rolled  in  surging  billows  in  the  opposite  direction. 
Hardly  one  moment  elapsed  before  the  Austrians,  flushed  with  victory,  found 
themselves  overwhelmed  by  defeat.  In  the  midst  of  this  terrific  scene,  an 
aid  rode  up  to  Napoleon  and  said, 

"Desaix  is  dead." 

But  a  moment  before  they  were  conversing  side  by  side.     Napoleon  pressed 


326  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.  [CHAP.  XX. 

his  head  convulsively  with  his  hand,  and  exclaimed,  mournfully,  "Why  is  it 
not  permitted  me  to  weep  !  Victory  at  such  a  price  is  dear." 

The  French  now  made  the  welkin  ring  with  shouts  of  victory.  Indescrib- 
able dismay  rilled  the  Austrian  ranks,  as  wildly  they  rushed  before  their  un- 
relenting pursuers.  Their  rout  was  utter  and  hopeless.  When  the  sun  went 
down  over  this  field  of  blood,  after  twelve  hours  of  the  most  frightful  carnage, 
a  scene  was  presented  horrid  enough  to  appal  the  heart  of  a  demon.  More 
than  twenty  thousand  human  beings  were  strewn  upon  the  ground,  the  dying 
and  the  dead,  weltering  in  gore,  and  in  every  conceivable  form  of  disfigura- 
tion. Horses,  with  limbs  torn  from  their  bodies,  were  struggling  in  convuls- 
ive agonies.  Fragments  of  guns  and  swords,  and  of  military  wagons  of  ev- 
ery kind,  were  strewed  around  in  wild  ruin.  Frequent  piercing  cries,  which 
agony  extorted  from  the  lacerated  victims  of  war,  rose  above  the  general 
meanings  of  anguish,  which,  like  waitings  of  the  storm,  fell  heavily  upon  the 
ear.  The  shades  of  night  were  now  descending  upon  this  awful  scene  of 
misery.  The  multitude  of  the  wounded  was  so  great,  that,  notwithstanding 
the  utmost  exertions  of  the  surgeons,  hour  after  hour  of  the  long  night  lin- 
gered away,  while  thousands  of  the  wounded  and  the  dying  bit  the  dust  in 
their  agony. 

If  war  has  its  chivalry  and  its  pageantry,  it  has  also  revolting  hideous- 
ness  and  demoniac  woe.  The  young,  the  noble,  the  sanguine  were  writhing 
there  in  agony.  Bullets  respect  not  beauty.  They  tear  out  the  eye,  and 
shatter  the  jaw,  and  rend  the  cheek,  and  transform  the  human  face  divine 
into  an  aspect  upon  which  one  can  not  gaze  but  with  horror.  From  the  field 
of  Marengo  many  a  young  man  returned  to  his  home  so  mutilated  as  no 
longer  to  be  recognized  by  friends,  and  passed  a  weary  life  in  repulsive  de- 
formity. Mercy  abandons  the  arena  of  battle.  The  frantic  war-horse,  with 
iron  hoof,  tramples  upon  the  mangled  face,  the  throbbing  and  inflamed  wounds, 
the  splintered  bones,  and  heeds  not  the  shriek  of  torture.  Crushed  into  the 
bloody  mire  by  the  ponderous  wheels  of  heavy  artillery,  the  victim  of  bar- 
baric war  thinks  of  mother,  and  father,  and  sister,  and  home,  and  shrieks, 
and  moans,  and  dies  ;  his  body  is  stripped  by  the  vagabonds  who  follow  the 
camp ;  his  naked,  mangled  corpse  is  covered  with  a  few  shovelsful  of  earth, 
and  left  as  food  for  vultures  and  for  dogs,  and  he  is  forgotten  forever — and 
it  is  called  glory. 

He  who  loves  war  for  the  sake  of  its  excitements,  its  pageantry,  and  its 
fancied  glory,  is  the  most  eminent  of  all  the  dupes  of  folly  and  of  sin.  He 
who  loathes  war  with  inexpressible  loathing,  who  will  do  every  thing  in  his 
power  to  avert  the  dire  and  horrible  calamity,  but  who  will,  nevertheless,  in 
the  last  extremity,  with  a  determined  spirit  encounter  all  its  perils  from  love 
of  country  and  of  home,  who  is  willing  to  sacrifice  himself  and  all  that  is 
dear  to  him  in  life  to  promote  the  well-being  of  his  fellow-man,  will  ever  re- 
ceive the  homage  of  the  world,  and  we  also  fully  believe  that  he  will  receive 
the  approval  of  God.  Washington  abhorred  war  in  all  its  forms,  yet  he 
braved  all  its  perils. 

For  the  carnage  of  the  field  of  Marengo  Napoleon  can  not  be  held  re- 
sponsible. Upon  England  and  Austria  must  rest  all  the  guilt  of  that  awful 
tragedy.  Napoleon  had  done  every  thing  he  could  to  stop  the  effusion  of 


1800.]  MARENGO.  327 

blood.  He  had  sacrificed  the  instincts  of  pride  in  pleading  with  a  haughty 
foe  for  peace.  His  plea  was  unavailing.  Three  hundred  thousand  men 
were  marching  upon  France,  to  force  upon  her  a  detested  king.  It  was  not 
the  duty  of  France  to  submit  to  such  dictation.  Drawing  the  sword  in  self- 
defense,  Napoleon  fought  and  conquered.  "  Te  Deum  laudamus."* 

It  is  not  possible  but  that  Napoleon  must  have  been  elated  by  so  resplen- 
dent a  victory.  He  knew  that  Marengo  would  be  classed  as  the  most  brill- 
iant of  his  achievements.  The  blow  had  fallen  with  such  terrible  severity, 
that  the  haughty  Allies  were  terribly  humbled.  Melas  was  now  at  his  mer- 
cy. Napoleon  could  dictate  peace  upon  his  own  terms.  Yet  he  rode  over 
the  field  of  his  victory  with  a  saddened  spirit,  and  gazed  mournfully  upon  the 
ruin  and  the  wretchedness  around  him.  As  he  was  slowly  and  thoughtfully 
passing  along,  through  the  heaps  of  the  dead  with  which  the  ground  was  en- 
cumbered, he  met  a  number  of  carts,  heavily  laden  with  the  wounded,  torn 
by  balls,  and  bullets,  and  fragments  of  shells,  into  most  hideous  spectacles 
of  deformity.  As  the  heavy  wheels  lumbered  over  the  rough  ground,  grat- 
ing the  splintered  bones,  and  bruising  and  opening  afresh  the  inflamed  wounds, 
shrieks  of  torture  were  extorted  from  the  victims.  Napoleon  stopped  his 
horse  and  uncovered  his  head  as  the  melancholy  procession  of  misfortune 
and  woe  passed  along. 

Turning  to  a  companion,  he  said,  "We  can  not  but  regret  not  being 
wounded  like  these  unhappy  men,  that  we  might  share  their  sufferings."  A 
more  touching  expression  of  sympathy  has  never  been  recorded.  He  who 
says  that  this  was  hypocrisy  is  a  stranger  to  the  generous  impulses  of  a 
noble  heart.  This  instinctive  outburst  of  emotion  never  could  have  been  in- 
stigated by  policy. 

Napoleon  had  fearlessly  exposed  himself  to  every  peril  during  this  conflict. 
His  clothes  were  repeatedly  pierced  by  bullets.  Balls  struck  between  the 
legs  of  his  horse,  covering  him  with  earth.  A  cannon-ball  took  away  a  piece 
of  the  boot  from  his  left  leg,  and  a  portion  of  the  skin,  leaving  a  scar  which 
was  never  obliterated. 

Before  Napoleon  marched  for  Italy,  he  had  made  every  effort  in  his  power 
for  the  attainment  of  peace.  Now,  with  magnanimity  above  all  praise,  with- 
out waiting  for  the  first  advance  from  his  conquered  foes,  he  wrote  again  im- 
ploring peace.  Upon  the  field  of  Marengo,  having  scattered  all  his  enemies 
like  chaff  before  him,  with  the  smoke  of  the  conflict  still  darkening  the  air, 
and  the  groans  of  the  dying  swelling  upon  his  ear,  laying  aside  all  the  for- 
malities of  state,  with  heartfelt  feeling  and  earnestness  he  wrote  to  the  Em- 
peror of  Austria.  This  extraordinary  epistle  was  thus  commenced  : 

*  "  If  British  policy  and  government  had  been  then  what  it  is  avowedly  and  really  now,  and 
should  always  be,  that  of  non-intervention,  letting  France  govern  herself  as  her  people  chose,  Bo- 
naparte might  never  have  become  Napoleon.  To  get  rid  of  a  chief  magistrate  who  restored  order, 
law,  religion,  the  finances,  power,  and  universal  peace,  war  was  made ;  not  declared,  as  at  last  in 
1815,  against  him  personally,  but  in  1803  actually  because  he  governed  a  French  republic  inof- 
fensively and  admirably.  If,  at  that  time,  Bonaparte  had  died  or  resigned,  the  glories,  aggrandize- 
ment, and  downfall  of  the  empire  would  not  have  ensued,  but  his  name  would  have  been  pure, 
bright,  and  clear  of  calumnious  representations.  A  moral  man,  an  exemplary  citizen ;  amiable, 
temperate,  chaste,  strictly  honest  and  disinterested  ;  famous  as  a  military  chieftain  and  civil  admin- 
istrator ;  a  conservative  reformer,  not  a  Republican,  but  a  founder  of  a  representative  government." 
•—History  of  the  Second  War,  by  Ingersoll,  vol.  i.,  p.  208. 


328  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.  [CHAP.  XX- 

"  Sire  !  It  is  on  the  field  of  battle,  amid  the  sufferings  of  a  multitude  of 
wounded,  and  surrounded  by  fifteen  thousand  corpses,  that  I  beseech  your 
majesty  to  listen  to  the  voice  of  humanity,  and  not  to  suffer  two  brave  na- 
tions to  cut  each  others'  throats  for  interests  not  their  own.  It  is  my  part 
to  press  this  upon  your  majesty,  being  upon  the  very  theatre  of  war.  Your 
majesty's  heart  can  not  feel  it  so  keenly  as  does  mine." 

The  letter  was  long  and  most  eloquent.  "  For  what  are  you  fighting  ?" 
said  Napoleon.  "  For  religion  ?  Then  make  war  on  the  Russians  and  the 
English,  who  are  the  enemies  of  your  faith.  Do  you  wish  to  guard  against 
revolutionary  principles  ?  It  is  this  very  war  which  has  extended  them  over 
half  the  Continent,  by  extending  the  conquests  of  France.  The  continuance 
of  the  war  can  not  fail  to  diffuse  them  still  further.  Is  it  for  the  balance  of 
Europe  ?  The  English  threaten  that  balance  far  more  than  does  France,  for 
they  have  become  the  masters  and  the  tyrants  of  commerce,  and  are  beyond 
the  reach  of  resistance.  Is  it  to  secure  the  interests  of  the  house  of  Austria? 
Let  us  then  execute  the  treaty  of  Campo  Formic,  which  secures  to  your  maj- 
esty large  indemnities  in  compensation  for  the  provinces  lost  in  the  Neth- 
erlands, and  secures  them  to  you  where  you  most  wish  to  obtain  them,  that 
is,  in  Italy.  Your  majesty  may  send  negotiators  whither  you  will,  and  we 
will  add  to  the  treaty  of  Campo  Formic  stipulations  calculated  to  assure  you 
of  the  continued  existence  of  the  secondary  states,  all  of  which  the  French 
Republic  is  accused  of  having  shaken.  Upon  these  conditions,  peace  is 
made,  if  you  will.  Let  us  make  the  armistice  general  for  all  the  armies, 
and  enter  into  negotiations  instantly." 

A  courier  was  immediately  dispatched  to  Vienna  to  convey  this  letter  to 
the  Emperor.  In  the  evening,  Bourrienne  hastened  to  congratulate  Napo- 
leon upon  his  extraordinary  victory.  "  What  a  glorious  day  !"  said  he. 

"  Yes  !"  replied  Napoleon,  mournfully,  "  very  glorious — could  I  this  even- 
ing but  have  embraced  Desaix  upon  the  field  of  battle." 

On  the  same  day,  and  at  nearly  the  same  hour  in  which  the  fatal  bullet 
pierced  the  breast  of  Desaix,  an  assassin,  in  Egypt,  plunged,  a  dagger  into 
the  bosom  of  Kleber.  The  spirits  of  these  illustrious  men,  these  blood- 
stained warriors,  thus  unexpectedly  met  in  the  spirit-land.  There  they  wan- 
der now.  How  impenetrable  the  vail  which  shuts  their  destiny  from  our 
view.  The  soul  longs  for  clearer  vision  of  that  far-distant  world,  peopled  by 
the  innumerable  host  of  the  mighty  dead.  There  Napoleon  now  dwells. 
Does  he  retain  his  intellectual  supremacy?  Do  his  generals  gather  around 
him  with  love  and  homage  ?  Has  his  pensive  spirit  sunk  down  into  gloom 
and  despair,  or  has  it  soared  into  cloudless  regions  of  purity  and  peace  ? 
The  mystery  of  Death !  Death  alone  can  solve  it.  Christianity,  with  its 
lofty  revealings,  sheds  but  dim  twilight  upon  the  world  of  departed  spirits. 

At  St.  Helena,  Napoleon  said,  "  Of  all  the  generals  I  ever  had  under  my 
command,  Desaix  and  Kleber  possessed  the  greatest  talent — in  particular 
Desaix,  as  Kleber  loved  glory  only  as  the  means  of  acquiring  wealth  and 
pleasure.  Desaix  loved  glory  for  itself,  and  despised  every  other  considera- 
tion. To  him  riches  and  pleasure  were  of  no  value,  nor  did  he  ever  give 
them  a  moment's  thought.  He  was  a  little,  black-looking  man,  about  an  inch 
shorter  than  myself,  always  badly  dressed,  sometimes  even  ragged,  and  de- 


1800.]  MARENGO.  329 

spising  alike  comfort  and  convenience.  Enveloped  in  a  cloak,  Desaix  would 
throw  himself  under  a  gun,  and  sleep  as  contentedly  as  if  reposing  in  a  pal- 
ace. Luxury  had  for  him  no  charms.  Frank  and  honest  in  all  his  proceed- 
ings, he  was  denominated  by  the  Arabs  Sultan  the  Just.  Nature  intended 
him  to  figure  as  a  consummate  general.  Kleber  and  Desaix  were  irrepar- 
able losses  to  France." 

It  is  impossible  to  describe  the  dismay  which  pervaded  the  camp  of  the 
Austrians  after  this  terrible  defeat.  .They  were  entirely  cut  off  from  all  re- 
treat, and  were  at  the  mercy  of  Napoleon.  A  council  of  war  was  held  by 
the  Austrian  officers  during  the  night,  and  it  was  unanimously  resolved  that 
capitulation  was  unavoidable.  Early  the  next  morning  a  flag  of  truce  was 
sent  to  the  head-quarters  of  Napoleon.  The  Austrians  offered  to  abandon 
Italy  if  the  generosity  of  the  victor  would  grant  them  the  boon  of  not  being 
made  prisoners  of  war.  Napoleon  met  the  envoy  with  great  courtesy,  and, 
according  to  his  custom,  stated  promptly  and  irrevocably  the  conditions  upon 
which  he  was  willing  to  treat.  The  terms  were  generous. 

"  The  Austrian  armies,"  said  he,  "  may  unmolestedly  return  to  their  homes ; 
but  all  of  Italy  must  be  abandoned." 

Melas,  who  was  eighty  years  of  age,  hoped  to  modify  the  terms,  and  again 
sent  the  negotiator  to  suggest  some  alterations. 

"  Monsieur  !"  said  Napoleon,  "  my  conditions  are  irrevocable.  I  did  not 
begin  to  make  war  yesterday.  Your  position  is  as  perfectly  comprehended 
by  me  as  by  yourselves.  You  are  encumbered  with  dead,  sick,  and  wound- 
ed, destitute  of  provisions,  deprived  of  the  elite  of  your  army,  surrounded  on 
every  side.  I  might  exact  every  thing ;  but  I  respect  the  white  hairs  of  your 
general,  and  the  valor  of  your  soldiers.  I  ask  nothing  but  what  is  rigorously 
justified  by  the  present  position  of  affairs.  Take  what  steps  you  may,  you 
will  have  no  other  terms." 

The  conditions  were  immediately  signed,  and  a  suspension  of  arms  was 
agreed  upon  until  an  answer  could  be  received  from  Vienna. 

Napoleon  left  Paris  for  this  campaign  on  the  7th  of  May.  The  battle  of 
Marengo  was  fought  on  the  14th  of  June.  Thus,  in  five  weeks,  Napoleon 
had  scaled  the  barrier  of  the  Alps :  with  sixty  thousand  soldiers,  most  of 
them  undisciplined  recruits,  he  had  utterly  discomfited  an  army  of  one  hun- 
dred and  twenty  thousand  men,  and  regained  the  whole  of  Italy.  The 
achievement  amazed  the  civilized  world.  The  bosom  of  every  Frenchman 
throbbed  with  gratitude  and  pride.  One  shout  of  enthusiasm  ascended  from 
united  France.  Napoleon  had  laid  the  foundation  of  his  throne  deep  in  the 
heart  of  the  French  nation,  and  there  that  foundation  still  remains  unshaken. 

Napoleon  now  entered  Milan  in  triumph.  He  remained  there  ten  days, 
busy  apparently  every  hour,  by  day  and  by  night,  in  reorganizing  the  polit. 
ical  condition  of  Italy.  The  serious  and  religious  tendencies  of  his  mind  are 
developed  by  the  following  note,  which  four  days  after  the  battle  of  Maren- 
go he  wrote  to  the  Consuls  in  Paris  :  "  To-day,  whatever  our  Atheists  may 
say  to  it,  I  go  in  great  state  to  the  Te  Deum  which  is  to  be  chanted  in  the 
Cathedral  of  Milan."* 

*  The  Te  Deum  is  an  anthem  of  praise,  sung  in  churches  on  occasion  of  thanksgiving.  It  is  so 
called  from  the  first  words,  "  Te  Deum  laudamus,"  Thee,  God,  we  praise. 


330  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.  [CHAP.  XX. 

An  unworthy  spirit  of  detraction  has  vainly  sought  to  wrest  from  Napoleon 
the  honor  of  this  victory,  and  to  attribute  it  all  to  the  flank  charge  made  by 
Kellerman.  Such  attempts  deserve  no  detailed  reply.  Napoleon  had  se- 
cretly and  suddenly  called  into  being  an  army,  and  by  its  apparently  mirac- 
ulous creation  had  astounded  Europe.  He  had  effectually  deceived  the 
vigilance  of  his  enemies,  so  as  to  leave  them  entirely  in  the  dark  respect- 
ing his  point  of  attack.  He  had  conveyed  that  army,  with  all  its  stores,  over 
the  pathless  crags  of  the  Great  St.  Bernard.  Like  an  avalanche  he  had  de- 
scended from  the  mountains  upon  the  plains  of  startled  Italy.  He  had  sur- 
rounded the  Austrian  hosts,  though  they  were  double  his  numbers,  with  a 
net  through  which  they  could  not  break.  In  a  decisive  battle  he  had  scat- 
tered their  ranks  before  him  like  chaff  before  the  whirlwind.  He  was  nobly 
seconded  by  those  generals  whom  his  genius  had  chosen  and  created. 

It  is  indeed  true,  that  without  his  generals  and  his  soldiers  he  could  not 
have  gained  the  victory.  Massena  contributed  to  the  result  by  his  match- 
less defense  of  Genoa ;  Moreau,  by  holding  in  abeyance  the  army  of  the 
Rhine  ;  Lannes,  by  his  iron  firmness  on  the  plain  of  Montebello  ;  Desaix,  by 
the  promptness  with  which  he  rushed  to  the  rescue,  as  soon  as  his  ear 
caught  the  far-off  thunders  of  the  cannon  of  Marengo  ;  and  Kellerman,  by 
his  admirable  flank  charge  of  cavalry.  But  it  was  the  genius  of  Napoleon 
which  planned  the  mighty  combination,  which  roused  and  directed  the  en- 
thusiasm of  the  generals,  which  inspired  the  soldiers  with  fearlessness  and 
nerved  them  for  the  strife,  and  which,  through  these  efficient  agencies,  se- 
cured the  astounding  results. 

Napoleon  established  his  triumphant  army,  now  increased  to  eighty  thou- 
sand men,  in  the  rich  valley  of  the  Po.  He  assigned  to  the  heroic  Massena 
the  command  of  this  triumphant  host,  and  ordering  all  the  forts  and  citadels 
which  blocked  the  approaches  from  France  to  be  blown  up,  set  out,  on  the 
24th  of  June,  for  his  return  to  Paris.  In  recrossing  the  Alps  by  the  pass  of 
Mount  Cenis,  he  met  the  carriage  of  Madame  Kellerman,  who  was  going  to 
Italy  to  join  her  husband.  Napoleon  ordered  his  carriage  to  be  stopped,  and 
alighting,  greeted  the  lady  with  great  courtesy,  and  congratulated  her  upon 
the  gallant  conduct  of  her  husband  at  Marengo.  As  he  was  riding  along 
one  day,  Bourrienne  spoke  of  the  world-wide  renown  which  the  First  Con- 
sul had  attained. 

"  Yes,"  Napoleon  thoughtfully  replied.  "  A  few  more  events  like  this 
campaign,  and  my  name  may  perhaps  go  down  to  posterity." 

"  I  think,"  Bourrienne  rejoined,  "  that  you  have  already  done  enough  to 
secure  a  long  and  lasting  fame." 

"  Done  enough  !"  Napoleon  replied.  "  You  are  very  good  !  It  is  true 
that  in  less  than  two  years  I  have  conquered  Cairo,  Paris,  Milan.  But  were 
I  to  die  to-morrow,  half  a  page  of  general  history  would  be  all  that  would  be 
devoted  to  my  exploits." 

Napoleon's  return  to  Paris,  through  the  provinces  of  France,  was  a  scene 
of  constant  triumph.  The  joy  of  the  people  amounted  almost  to  phrensy. 
Bonfires,  illuminations,  the  pealing  of  bells,  and  the  thunders  of  artillery,  ac- 
companied him  all  the  way.  Long  lines  of  young  maidens,  selected  for 
their  grace  and  beauty,  formed  avenues  of  loveliness  and  smiles  through 


1800.J  MARENGO.  g31 

which  he  was  to  pass,  and  carpeted  his  path  with  flowers.  He  arrived  in 
Paris  at  midnight  on  the  2d  of  July,  having  been  absent  but  eight  weeks. 

The  enthusiasm  of  the  Parisians  was  unbounded  and  inexhaustible.  Day 
after  day,  and  night  after  night,  the  festivities  continued.  The  Palace  of 
the  Tuileries  was  ever  thronged  with  a  crowd,  eager  to  catch  a  glimpse  of 
the  preserver  of  France.  All  the  public  bodies  waited  upon  him  with  con- 
gratulations. Bells  rang,  cannon  thundered,  bonfires  and  illuminations 
blazed,  rockets  and  fire-works,  in  meteoric  splendor,  filled  the  air,  bands  of 
music  poured  forth  their  exuberant  strains,  and  united  Paris,  thronging  the 
garden  of  the  Tuileries,  and  flooding  back  into  the  Elysian  Fields,  rent  the 
heavens  with  deafening  shouts  of  exultation.  As  Napoleon  stood  at  the 
window  of  his  palace,  witnessing  this  spectacle  of  a  nation's  gratitude,  he 
said, 

"  The  sound  of  these  acclamations  is  as  sweet  to  me  as  the  voice  of  Jose- 
phine. How  happy  I  am  to  be  beloved  by  such  a  people !" 

Preparations  were  immediately  made  for  a  brilliant  and  imposing  solem- 
nity in  commemoration  of  the  victory.  "  Let  no  triumphal  arch  be  raised 
to  me,"  said  Napoleon.  "  I  wish  for  no  triumphal  arch  but  the  public  satis- 
faction." 

It  is  not  strange  that  enthusiasm  and  gratitude  should  have  glowed  in  the 
ardent  bosoms  of  the  French.  In  four  months  Napoleon  had  raised  France 
from  an  abyss  of  ruin  to  the  highest  pinnacle  of  prosperity  and  renown. 
For  anarchy  he  had  substituted  law,  for  bankruptcy  a  well-replenished 
treasury,  for  ignominious  defeat  resplendent  victory,  for  universal  discontent 
as  universal  satisfaction.  The  invaders  were  driven  from  France,  the  hos- 
tile alliance  broken,  and  the  blessings  of  peace  were  now  promised  to  the 
war-harassed  nation. 

During  this  campaign  there  was  presented  a  very  interesting  illustration 
of  Napoleon's  wonderful  power  of  anticipating  the  progress  of  coming  events. 
Bourrienne  one  day,  just  before  the  commencement  of  the  campaign,  enter- 
ed the  cabinet  at  the  Tuileries,  and  found  an  immense  map  of  Italy  unrolled 
upon  the  carpet,  and  Napoleon  stretched  upon  it.  With  pins,  whose  heads 
were  tipped  with  red  and  black  sealing-wax,  to  represent  the  French  and 
Austrian  forces,  Napoleon  was  studying  all  the  possible  combinations  and 
evolutions  of  the  two  hostile  armies.  Bourrienne,  in  silence,  but  with  deep 
interest,  watched  the  progress  of  this  pin  campaign.  Napoleon,  having  ar- 
ranged the  pins  with  red  heads  where  he  intended  to  conduct  the  French 
troops,  and  with  the  black  pins  designating  the  point  which  he  supposed  the 
Austrians  would  occupy,  looked  up  to  his  secretary  and  said, 

"  Do  you  think  that  I  shall  beat  Melas?" 

"  Why,  how  can  I  tell  ?"  Bourrienne  answered. 

"Why,  you  simpleton,"  said  Napoleon,  playfully,  "just  look  here.  Me- 
las is  at  Alexandria,  where  he  has  his  head-quarters.  He  will  remain  there 
until  Genoa  surrenders.  He  has  in  Alexandria  his  magazines,  his  hospitals, 
his  artillery,  his  reserves.  Passing  the  Alps  here,"  sticking  a  pin  into  the 
Great  St.  Bernard,  "  I  fall  upon  Melas  in  his  rear.  I  cut  oflfhis  communica- 
tions with  Austria.  I  meet  him  here  in  the  valley  of  the  Bormida."  So 
saying,  he  stuck  a  red  pin  into  the  plain  of  Marengo. 


332 


NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE. 


[CHAP.  XX. 


NAPOLEON    PLANNING    A    CAMPAIGN. 


Bourrienne  regarded  this  maneuvering  of  pins  as  mere  pastime.  His  coun. 
tenance  expressed  his  perfect  incredulity.  Napoleon,  perceiving  this,  ad- 
dressed to  him  some  of  his  usual  apostrophes,  in  which  he  was  accustomed 
playfully  to  indulge  in  moments  of  relaxation,  such  as,  "  You  ninny !  You 
goose  !"  and  rolled  up  the  map. 

Ten  weeks  passed  away,  and  Bourrienne  found  himself  upon  the  banks  of 
the  Bormida,  writing,  at  Napoleon's  dictation,  an  account  of  the  battle  of 
Marengo.  Astonished  to  find  Napoleon's  anticipations  thus  minutely  ful- 
filled, he  frankly  avowed  his  admiration  of  the  military  sagacity  thus  dis- 
played. Napoleon  himself  smiled  at  the  justice  of  his  foresight. 

Two  days  before  the  news  of  the  battle  of  Marengo  arrived  in  Vienna, 
England  effected  a  new  treaty  with  Austria  for  the  more  vigorous  prosecu- 
tion of  the  war.  By  this  convention,  it  was  provided  that  England  should 
loan  Austria  ten  millions  of  dollars,  to  bear  no  interest  during  the  continu- 
ance of  the  conflict.  And  the  Austrian  cabinet  bound  itself  not  to  make 
peace  with  France  without  the  consent  of  the  court  of  St.  James.  The 
Emperor  of  Austria  was  now  sadly  embarrassed.  His  sense  of  honor  would 
not  allow  him  to  violate  his  pledge  to  the  King  of  England  and  to  make 
peace.  On  the  other  hand,  he  trembled  at  the  thought  of  seeing  the  armies 
of  the  invincible  Napoleon  again  marching  upon  his  capital.  He  therefore 
resolved  to  temporize,  and,  in  order  to  gain  time,  sent  an  embassador  to 
Paris.  The  plenipotentiary  presented  to  Napoleon  a  letter,  in  which  the 
Emperor  stated, 

"  You  will  give  credit  to  every  thing  which  Count  Julien  shall  say  on  my 
part.  I  will  ratify  whatever  he  shall  do." 

Napoleon,  prompt  in  action,  and  uninformed  of  the  new  treaty  between 
Francis  and  George  TIL,  immediate!}  caused  the  preliminaries  of  peace 


1800.]  HOHENLINDEN.  333 

to  be  drawn  up,  which  were  signed  by  the  French  and  Austrian  ministers. 
The  cabinet  in  Vienna,  angry  with  their  embassador  for  not  protracting  the 
discussion,  refused  to  ratify  the  treaty,  recalled  Count  Julien,  sent  him  into 
exile,  informed  the  First  Consul  of  the  treaty  which  bound  Austria  not  to 
make  peace  without  the  concurrence  of  Great  Britain,  assured  France  of  the 
readiness  of  the  English  cabinet  to  enter  into  negotiations,  and  urged  the 
immediate  opening  of  a  Congress  at  Luneville,  to  which  plenipotentiaries 
should  be  sent  from  each  of  the  three  great  contending  powers.* 

Napoleon  was  highly  indignant  in  view  of  this  duplicity  and  perfidy.  Yet, 
controlling  his  anger,  he  consented  to  treat  with  England,  and  with  that  view 
proposed  a  naval  armistice  with  the  mistress  of  the  seas.  To  this  propo- 
sition England  peremptorily  refused  to  accede,  as  it  would  enable  France 
to  throw  supplies  into  Egypt  and  Malta,  which  island  England  was  besieg- 
ing. The  naval  armistice  would  have  been  undeniably  for  the  interests  of 
France.  But  the  Continental  armistice  was  as  undeniably  adverse  to  her 
interests,  enabling  Austria  to  recover  from  her  defeats  and  to  strengthen 
her  armies.  Napoleon,  fully  convinced  that  England,  in  her  inaccessible 
position,  did  not  wish  for  peace,  and  that  her  only  object  in  endeavoring  to 
obtain  admittance  to  the  Congress  was  that  she  might  throw  obstacles  in 
the  way  of  reconciliation  with  Austria,  offered  to  renounce  all  armistice  with 
England,  and  to  treat  with  her  separately.  This  England  also  refused. 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

HOHENLINDEN. 

Duplicity  of  Austria — Obstinacy  of  England — Responsibility  of  Pitt — Battle  of  Hohenlinden— 
Treaty  of  Luneville — Testimony  of  Scott  and  Alison — Universality  of  Napoleon's  Genius — Let- 
ter of  General  Durosel — The  infernal  Machine — Josephine's  Letter — Absurd  Reports — Madame 
Junot — Hortense. 

IT  was  now  September.  Two  months  had  passed  in  vexatious  and  sterile 
negotiations.  Napoleon  had  taken  every  step  in  his  power  to  secure  peace. 
He  sincerely  desired  it.  He  had  already  won  all  the  laurels  he  could  wish 
to  win  on  the  field  of  battle.  The  reconstruction  of  society  in  France,  and 
the  consolidation  of  his  power,  demanded  all  his  energies.  The  consolida- 
tion of  his  power  !  That  was  just  what  the  government  of  England  dreaded. 
The  consolidation  of  republican  power,  almost  within  cannon  shot  of  the 
court  of  England,  was  an  evil  to  be  avoided  at  every  hazard.  It  threatened 
the  overthrow  of  both  king  and  nobles. 

William  Pitt,  the  soul  of  the  aristocratic  government  of  England,  determ- 
ined still  to  prosecute  the  war.  France  could  not  harm  England.  But  En- 

*  "Conscious  now  of  the  mortal  blunder  he  had  committed  in  rejecting  the  overtures  for  peace, 
the  Emperor  (of  Austria)  dispatched  an  envoy  to  Paris  in  the  person  of  Count  Julien,  but  rather  to 
sound  the  views  of  the  French  government  than  armed  with  actual  powers  to  treat.  Nevertheless, 
the  alarm  of  Pitt  at  this  step  was  very  great,  and  he  labored  with  all  his  might  to  induce  the  Aus- 
trian cabinet  to  continue  the  war,  making  it  the  most  lavish  promises  of  subsidies  from  the  British 
people.  In  truth,  Austria  was  still  inclined  to  try  again  the  fortune  of  war,  from  the  very  excess 
of  her  disaster ;  but  she  wanted  breathing-tune  after  her  prodigious  losses,  and  she  besought  an 
extension  of  the  Italian  armistice  to  Germany." — French  Revolution,  by  T.  W.  Redhead. 

VOL.  II.— C 


334  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.  [CHAP.  XXI. 

gland,  with  her  invincible  fleet,  could  sweep  the  commerce  of  France  from 
the  seas.  Fox  and  his  coadjutors,  with  great  eloquence  and  energy,  opposed 
the  war.  Their  efforts  were,  however,  unavailing.  The  people  of  England, 
notwithstanding  all  the  efforts  of  the  government  to  defame  the  character  of 
the  First  Consul,  still  cherished  the  conviction  that,  after  all,  Napoleon  was 
their  friend.  Napoleon,  in  subsequent  years,  while  reviewing  these  scenes 
of  his  early  conflicts,  with  characteristic  eloquence  and  magnanimity,  gave 
utterance  to  the  following  sentiments,  which  the  verdict  of  the  world  will 
certainly  yet  confirm. 

"  Pitt  was  the  master  of  European  policy.  He  held  in  his  hands  the  mor- 
al fate  of  nations.  But  he  made  an  ill  use  of  his  power.  He  kindled  the 
fire  of  discord  throughout  the  universe  ;  and  his  name,  like  that  of  Erostra- 
tus,  will  be  inscribed  in  history,  amid  flames,  lamentations,  and  tears.  Twen- 
ty-five years  of  universal  conflagration,  the  numerous  coalitions  that  added 
fuel  to  the  flame,  the  revolution  and  devastation  of  Europe,  the  bloodshed 
of  nations,  the  frightful  debt  of  England,  by  which  all  these  horrors  were 
maintained,  the  pestilential  system  of  loans  by  which  the  people  of  Europe 
are  oppressed,  the  general  discontent  that  now  prevails — all  must  be  attrib- 
uted to  Pitt.  Posterity  will  brand  him  as  a  scourge. 

"  The  man  so  lauded  in  his  own  time  will  hereafter  be  regarded  as  the 
genius  of  evil.  Not  that  I  consider  him  to  have  been  willfully  atrocious,  or 
doubt  his  having  entertained  the  conviction  that  he  was  acting  right.  But 
St.  Bartholemew  had  also  its  conscientious  advocates.  The  Pope  and  car- 
dinals celebrated  it  by  a  Te  Deum,  and  we  have  no  reason  to  doubt  their 
having  done  so  in  perfect  sincerity.  Such  is  the  weakness  of  human  reason 
and  judgment  ?  But  that  for  which  posterity  will,  above  all,  execrate  the 
memory  of  Pitt,  is  the  hateful  school  which  he  has  left  behind  him ;  its  in- 
solent Machiavelism,  its  profound  immorality,  its  cold  egotism,  and  its  utter 
disregard  of  justice  and  human  happiness.  Whether  it  be  the  effect  of  ad- 
miration and  gratitude,  or  the  result  of  mere  instinct  and  sympathy,  Pitt  is, 
and  will  continue  to  be,  the  idol  of  the  European  aristocracy. 

"  There  was,  indeed,  a  touch  of  the  Sylla  in  his  character.  His  system 
has  kept  the  popular  cause  in  check,  and  brought  about  the  triumph  of  the 
patricians.  As  for  Fox,  one  must  not  look  for  his  model  among  the  ancients. 
He  is  himself  a  model,  and  his  principles  will  sooner  or  later  rule  the  world. 
The  death  of  Fox  was  one  of  the  fatalities  of  my  career.  Had  his  life  been 
prolonged,  affairs  would  have  taken  a  totally  different  turn.  The  cause  of 
the  people  would  have  triumphed,  and  we  should  have  established  a  new 
order  of  things  in  Europe." 

Austria  really  desired  peace.  The  march  of  Napoleon's  armies  upon  Vi- 
enna was  an  evil  more  to  be  dreaded  than  even  the  consolidation  of  Napo- 
leon's power  in  France.  But  Austria  was,  by  loans  and  treaties,  so  entan- 
gled with  England,  that  she  could  make  no  peace  without  the  consent  of  the 
court  of  St.  James.  Napoleon  found  that  he  was  but  trifled  with.  Inter- 
minable difficulties  were  thrown  in  the  way  of  negotiation.  Austria  was 
taking  advantage  of  the  cessation  of  hostilities  merely  to  recruit  her  defeat- 
ed armies,  that,  as  soon  as  the  approaching  winter  had  passed  away,  she 
might  fall,  with  renovated  energies,  upon  France. 


1800.J  HOHENLINDEN.  335 

The  month  of  November  had  now  arrived,  and  the  mountains  whitened 
ivith  snow,  were  swept  by  the  bleak  winds  of  winter.  The  period  of  the 
armistice  had  expired.  Austria  applied  for  its  prolongation.  Napoleon  was 
no  longer  thus  to  be  duped.  He  consented,  however,  to  a  continued  suspen- 
sion of  hostilities,  on  condition  that  the  treaty  of  peace  were  signed  within 
forty-eight  hours.  Austria,  believing  that  no  sane  man  would  march  an 
army  into  Germany  in  the  dead  of  winter,  and  that  she  would  have  abundant 
time  to  prepare  for  a  spring  campaign,  refused.  The  armies  of  France  were 
immediately  on  the  move. 

The  Emperor  of  Austria  had  improved  every  moment  of  this  transient  in- 
terval of  peace  in  recruiting  his  forces.  In  person  he  had  visited  the  army 
to  inspire  his  troops  with  enthusiasm.  The  command  of  the  imperial  forces 
was  intrusted  to  his  second  brother,  the  Archduke  John.  Napoleon  moved 
with  his  accustomed  vigor.  The  political  necessities  of  Paris  and  of  France 
rendered  it  impossible  for  him  to  leave  the  metropolis.  He  ordered  one 
powerful  army,  under  General  Brune,  to  attack  the  Austrians  in  Italy,  on 
the  banks  of  the  Mincio,  and  to  press  firmly  toward  Vienna.  In  the  per- 
formance of  this  operation,  General  Macdonald,  in  the  dead  of  winter,  ef- 
fected his  heroic  passage  over  the  Alps  by  the  pass  of  the  Splugen.  Victory 
followed  their  standards. 

Moreau,  with  his  magnificent  army,  commenced  a  winter  campaign  on  the 
Rhine.  Between  the  rivers  Iser  and  Inn  there  is  an  enormous  forest,  many 
leagues  in  extent,  of  sombre  firs  and  pines.  It  is  a  dreary  and  almost  unin- 
habited wilderness  of  wild  ravines  and  tangled  under-brush.  Two  great 
roads  have  been  cut  through  the  forest,  and  sundry  woodmen's  paths  pene- 
trate it  at  different  points.  In  the  centre  there  is  a  little  hamlet  of  a  few 
miserable  huts,  called  Hohenlinden.  In  this  forest,  on  the  night  of  the  3d 
of  December,  1800,  Moreau,  with  sixty  thousand  men,  encountered  the  Arch- 
duke John  with  seventy  thousand  Austrian  troops. 

The  clocks  upon  the  towers  of  Munich  had  but  just  tolled  the  hour  of  mid- 
night when  both  armies  were  in  motion,  each  hoping  to  surprise  the  other. 
A  dismal  wintry  storm  was  howling  over  the  tree-tops,  and  the  smothering 
snow,  falling  rapidly,  obliterated  all  traces  of  a  path,  and  rendered  it  almost 
impossible  to  drag  through  the  drifts  the  ponderous  artillery.  Both  parties, 
in  the  dark  and  tempestuous  night,  became  entangled  in  the  forest,  and  the 
heads  of  their  columns  in  various  places  met.  An  awful  scene  of  confusion, 
conflict,  and  carnage  then  ensued.  Imagination  can  not  compass  the  terri- 
ble sublimity  of  that  spectacle.  The  dark  midnight,  the  bowlings  of  the 
wintry  storm,  the  driving  sheets  of  snow,  the  incessant  roar  of  artillery  and 
of  musketry  from  one  hundred  and  thirty  thousand  combatants,  the  lightning 
flashes  of  the  guns,  the  crash  of  the  falling  trees  as  the  heavy  cannon-balls 
swept  through  the  forest,  the  floundering  of  innumerable  horsemen,  bewil- 
dered in  the  pathless  snow,  the  shouts  of  onset,  the  shriek  of  death,  and 
the  burst  of  martial  music  from  a  thousand  bands,  all  combined  to  present 
a  scene  of  horror  and  of  demoniac  energy  which  probably  even  this  lost 
world  never  presented  before. 

The  darkness  of  the  black  forest  was  so  intense,  and  the  snow  fell  in  flakes 
so  thick,  and  fast,  and  blinding,  that  the  combatants  could  with  difficulty  see 


336  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.  [CHAP.  XXI. 

each  other.  They  often  judged  of  the  foe  only  by  his  position,  and  fired  at 
the  flashes  gleaming  through  the  gloom.  At  times,  hostile  divisions  became 
intermingled  in  inextricable  confusion,  and  hand  to  hand,  bayonet  crossing 
bayonet,  and  sword  clashing  against  sword,  they  fought  with  the  ferocity  of 
demons  ;  for  though  the  officers  of  an  army  may  be  influenced  by  the  most 
elevated  sentiments  of  dignity  and  of  honor,  the  mass  of  the  common  soldiers 
have  ever  been  the  most  miserable,  worthless,  and  degraded  of  mankind. 
As  the  advancing  and  retreating  hosts  wavered  to  and  fro,  the  wounded,  by 
thousands,  were  left  on  the  hill-sides  and  in  dark  ravines,  with  the  drifting 
snow,  crimsoned  with  blood,  their  only  blanket,  there  in  solitude  and  agony 
to  moan,  and  freeze,  and  die.  What  death-scenes  the  eye  of  God  must  have 
witnessed  that  night,  in  the  solitude  of  that  dark,  tempest-tossed,  and  blood- 
stained forest ! 

At  last  the  morning  dawned  through  the  unbroken  clouds,  and  the  battle 
raged  with  renovated  fury.  Nearly  twenty  thousand  of  the  mutilated  bodies 
of  the  dead  and  wounded  were  left  upon  the  field,  with  gory  locks  frozen  to 
their  icy  pillows,  and  covered  with  mounds  of  snow.  At  last  the  French 
were  victorious  at  every  point.  The  Austrians,  having  lost  twenty -five  thou- 
sand men  in  killed,  wounded,  and  prisoners,  one  hundred  pieces  of  artillery, 
and  an  immense  number  of  wagons,  fled  in  dismay.  This  terrific  conflict 
has  been  immortalized  by  the  noble  epic  of  Campbell,  which  is  now  familiar 
wherever  the  English  language  is  known. 

"  On  Linden,  when  the  sun  was  low, 
All  bloodless  lay  the  untrodden  snow, 
And  dark  as  winter  was  the  flow 
Of  Iser,  rolling  rapidly. 

"  But  Linden  saw  another  sight, 
When  the  drums  beat  at  dead  of  night, 
Commanding  fires  of  death  to  light 
The  darkness  of  her  scenery,"  &c. 

The  retreating  Austrians  rushed  down  the  valley  of  the  Danube.  Moreau 
followed  thundering  at  their  heels,  plunging  balls  and  shells  into  their  retreat- 
ing ranks.  The  victorious  French  were  within  thirty  miles  of  Vienna,  and 
the  capital  was  in  a  state  of  indescribable  dismay.  The  Emperor  again  sent 
an  envoy  imploring  an  armistice.  The  application  was  promptly  acceded 
to,  for  Napoleon  was  contending  only  for  peace.  Yet,  with  unexampled  mag- 
nanimity, notwithstanding  these  astonishing  victories,  Napoleon  made  no  es- 
sential alterations  in  his  terms.  Austria  was  at  his  feet.  His  conquering 
armies  were  almost  in  sight  of  the  steeples  of  Vienna.  There  was  no  power 
which  .the  Emperor  could  present  to  obstruct  their  resistless  march.  He 
might  have  exacted  any  terms  of  humiliation.  But  still  he  adhered  to  the 
first  terms  which  he  had  proposed. 

Moreau  was  urged  by  some  of  his  officers  to  press  on  to  Vienna.  "  We 
had  better  halt,"  he  replied,  "  and  be  content  with  peace.  It  is  for  that 
alone  that  we  are  fighting."  The  Emperor  of  Austria  was  thus  compelled 
to  treat  without  the  concurrence  of  England.  The  insurmountable  obstacle 
in  the  way  of  peace  was  thus  removed.  At  Luneville,  Joseph  Bonaparte 
appeared  as  the  embassador  of  Napoleon,  and  Count  Cobentzel  as  the  pleni* 


HOHENLINDEN. 


337 


1801.] 

potentiary  of  Austria.     The  terms  of  the  treaty  were  soon  settled,  and  France 
was  again  at  peace  with  all  the  world,  England  alone  excepted. 


DEATH    AT    HOHENLINDEN. 


By  this  treaty  the  Rhine  was  acknowledged  as  the  boundary  of  France. 
The  Adige  limited  the  possessions  of  Austria  in  Italy ;  and  Napoleon  made 
it  an  essential  article  that  every  Italian  imprisoned  in  the  dungeons  of  Aus- 
tria for  political  offenses  should  immediately  be  liberated.  There  was  to  be 
no  interference  by  either  with  the  new  republics  which  had  sprung  up  in 
Italy.  They  were  to  be  permitted  to  choose  whatever  form  of  government 
they  preferred. 

In  reference  to  this  treaty,  Sir  Walter  Scott  makes  the  candid  admission 


338  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.  [CHAP.  XXI. 

that  "  the  treaty  of  Luneville  was  not  much  more  advantageous  to  France 
than  that  of  Campo  Formio.  The  moderation  of  the  First  Consul  indicated 
at  once  his  desire  for  peace  upon  the  Continent,  and  considerable  respect  for 
the  bravery  and  strength  of  Austria."  And  Alison,  in  cautious  but  signifi- 
cant phrase,  remarks,  "  These  conditions  did  not  differ  materially  from  those 
pffered  by  Napoleon  before  the  renewal  of  the  war ;  a  remarkable  circum- 
stance, when  it  is  remembered  how  vast  an  addition  the  victories  of  Mareri- 
go,  Hohenlinden,  and  the  Mincio  had  since  made  to  the  preponderance  of 
the  French  armies." 

It  was,  indeed,  "  a  remarkable  circumstance,"  that  Napoleon  should  have 
manifested  such  unparalleled  moderation  under  circumstances  of  such  ag- 
gravated indignity.  In  Napoleon's  first  Italian  campaign  he  was  contending 
solely  for  peace.  At  last  he  attained  it,  in  the  treaty  of  Campo  Formio,  on 
terms  equally  honorable  to  Austria  and  to  France.  On  his  return  from 
Egypt,  he  found  the  armies  of  Austria,  three  hundred  thousand  strong,  in 
alliance  with  England,  invading  the  territories  of  the  Republic.  He  im- 
plored peace,  in  the  name  of  bleeding  humanity,  upon  the  fair  basis  of  the 
treaty  of  Campo  Formio.  His  foes  regarded  his  supplication  as  the  implor- 
ing cry  of  weakness,  and  treated  it  with  scorn.  With  new  vigor  they  poured 
their  tempests  of  balls  and  shells  upon  France. 

Napoleon  scaled  the  Alps,  and  dispersed  his  foes  at  Marengo  like  autumn 
leaves  before  the  gale.  Amid  the  smoke,  the  blood,  and  the  groans  of  the 
field  of  his  victory,  he  again  wrote  imploring  peace  ;  and  he  wrote  in  terms 
dictated  by  the  honest  and  gushing  sympathies  of  a  humane  man,  and  not  in 
the  cold  and  stately  forms  of  the  diplomatist.  Crushed  as  his  foes  were,  he 
rose  not  in  his  demands,  but  nobly  said,  "  I  am  still  willing  to  make  peace 
upon  the  fair  basis  of  the  treaty  of  Campo  Formio." 

His  treacherous  foes,  to  gain  time  to  recruit  their  armies,  that  they  might 
fall  upon  him  with  renovated  vigor,  agreed  to  an  armistice.  They  then 
threw  all  possible  embarrassments  in  the  way  of  negotiation,  and  prolonged 
the  armistice  till  the  winds  of  winter  were  sweeping  fiercely  over  the  snow- 
covered  hills  of  Austria.  They  thought  that  it  was  then  too  late  for  Napo- 
leon to  make  any  movements  until  spring,  and  that  they  had  a  long  winter 
before  them  in  which  to  prepare  for  another  campaign.  They  refused  peace. 
Through  storms,  and  freezing  gales,  and  drifting  snows,  the  armies  of  Napo- 
leon marched  painfully  to  Hohenlinden.  The  hosts  of  Austria  were  again 
routed,  and  were  swept  away  as  the  drifted  snow  flies  before  the  gale.  Ten 
thousand  Frenchmen  lie  cold  in  death,  the  terrible  price  of  the  victory.  The 
Emperor  of  Austria,  in  his  palaces,  heard  the  thunderings  of  Napoleon's  ap- 
proaching artillery.  He  implored  peace.  "  It  is  all  that  I  desire,"  said  Na- 
poleon ;  "  I  am  not  fighting  for  ambition  or  for  conquest.  I  am  still  ready 
to  make  peace  upon  the  fair  basis  of  the  treaty  of  Campo  Formio." 

While  all  the  Continent  was  now  at  peace  with  France,  England  alone, 
with  indomitable  resolution,  continued  the  war,  without  allies,  and  without 
any  apparent  or  avowed  object.  France,  comparatively  powerless  upon  the 
seas,  could  strike  no  blows  which  would  be  felt  by  the  distant  islanders. 
"  On  every  point,"  says  Sir  Walter  Scott,  "the  English  squadrons  annihila- 
ted the  commerce  of  France,  crippled  her  revenues,  and  blockaded  her  forts." 


1801.]  HOHENLINDEN.  339 

The  treaty  of  Luneville  was  signed  on  the  9th  of  February,  1801.  Napo- 
leon, lamenting  the  continued  hostility  of  England,  in  announcing  this  peace 
to  the  people  of  France,  remarked,  "Why  is  not  this  treaty  the  treaty  of  a 
general  peace  ?  This  was  the  wish  of  France.  This  has  been  the  constant 
object  of  the  efforts  of  her  government,  but  its  desires  are  fruitless.  All 
Europe  knows  that  the  British  minister  has  endeavored  to  frustrate  the  ne- 
gotiations at  Luneville.  In  vain  was  it  declared  to  him  that  France  was 
ready  to  enter  into  a  separate  negotiation.  This  declaration  only  produced 
a  refusal,  under  the  pretext  that  England  could  not  abandon  her  ally.  Since 
then,  when  that  ally  consented  to  treat  without  England,  that  government 
sought  other  means  to  delay  a  peace  so  necessary  to  the  world.  It  raises 
pretensions  contrary  to  the  dignity  and  rights  of  all  nations.  The  whole 
commerce  of  Asia,  and  of  immense  colonies,  does  not  satisfy  its  ambition. 
All  the  seas  must  submit  to  the  exclusive  sovereignty  of  England."  As 
William  Pitt  received  the  tidings  of  this  discomfiture  of  his  allies,  in  despair- 
ing despondency  he  exclaimed,  "  Fold  up  the  map  of  Europe.  It  need  not 
again  be  opened  for  twenty  years." 

While  Jthese  great  affairs  were  in  progress,  Napoleon,  in  Paris,  wras  con- 
secrating his  energies  with  almost  miraculous  power  in  developing  all  the 
resources  of  the  majestic  empire  under  his  control.  He  possessed  the  power 
of  abstraction  to  a  degree  which  has  probably  never  been  equaled.  He  could 
concentrate  all  his  attention  for  any  length  of  time  upon  one  subject,  and 
then,  laying  that  aside  entirely,  without  expending  any  energies  in  unavail- 
ing anxiety,  could  turn  to  another  with  all  the  freshness  and  the  vigor  of  an 
unpreoccupied  mind.  Incessant  mental  labor  was  the  luxury  of  his  life. 

"  Occupation,"  said  he,  "  is  my  element.  I  am  born  and  made  for  it.  I 
have  found  the  limits  beyond  which  I  could  not  use  my  legs.  I  have  seen 
the  extent  to  which  I  could  use  my  eyes,  but  I  have  never  known  any  bounds 
to  my  capacity  for  application." 

The  universality  of  Napoleon's  genius  was  now  most  conspicuous.  The 
revenues  of  the  nation  were  replenished,  and  all  the  taxes  arranged  to  the 
satisfaction  of  the  people.  The  Bank  of  France  was  reorganized,  and  new 
energy  infused  into  its  operations.  Several  millions  of  dollars  were  expend- 
ed in  constructing  and  perfecting  five  magnificent  roads  radiating  from  Paris 
to  the  frontiers  of  the  empire.  Robbers,  the  vagabonds  of  disbanded  armies, 
infested  the  roads,  rendering  traveling  dangerous  in  the  extreme.  "  Be  pa- 
tient," said  Napoleon.  "  Give  me  a  month  or  two.  I  must  first  conquer  peace 
abroad.  I  will  then  do  speedy  and  complete  justice  upon  these  highway- 
men." 

A  very  important  canal,  connecting  Belgium  with  France,  had  been  com- 
menced some  years  before.  The  engineers  could  not  agree  respecting  the 
best  direction  of  the  cutting  through  the  highlands  which  separated  the  val- 
ley of  the  Oise  from  that  of  the  Somme.  He  visited  the  spot  in  person,  de- 
cided the  question  promptly  and  decided  it  wisely,  and  the  canal  was  pressed 
to  its  completion.  He  immediately  caused  three  new  bridges  to  be  thrown 
across  the  Seine  at  Paris.  He  commenced  the  magnificent  road  of  the  Sim- 
plon,  crossing  the  rugged  Alps  with  a  broad  and  smooth  highway,  which  for 
ages  will  remain  a  durable  monument  of  the  genius  and  energy  of  Napoleon- 


340  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE  [CHAP.  XXL 

-"  In  gratitude  for  the  favors  he  had  received  from  the  monks  of  the  Great  St. 
Bernard,  he  founded  two  similar  establishments  for  the  aid  of  travelers,  one 
on  Mount  Cenis,  the  other  on  the  Simplon,  and  both  auxiliary  to  the  convent 
on  the  Great  St.  Bernard.  Concurrently  with  these  majestic  undertakings, 
he  commenced  the  compilation  of  the  civil  code  of  France.  The  ablest  law- 
yers of  Europe  were  summoned  to  this  enterprise,  and  the  whole  work  was 
discussed  section  by  section  in  the  Council  of  State,  over  which  Napoleon 
presided.  The  lawyers  were  amazed  to  find  that  the  First  Consul  was  as 
perfectly  familiar  with  all  the  details  of  legal  and  political  science  as  he  was 
with  military  strategy. 

Bourrienne  mentions  that,  one  day,  a  letter  was  received  from  an  emi- 
grant, General  Durosel,  who  had  taken  refuge  in  the  island  of  Jersey.  The 
following  is  an  extract  from  the  letter : 

"  You  can  not  have  forgotten,  general,  that  when  your  late  father  was 
obliged  to  take  your  brothers  from  the  college  of  Autun,  he  was  unprovided 
with  money,  and  asked  of  me  one  hundred  and  twenty-five  dollars,  which  I 
lent  him  with  pleasure.  After  his  return  he  had  not  an  opportunity  of  pay- 
ing me,  and  when  I  left  Ajaccio  your  mother  offered  to  -dispose  of  some 
plate  in  order  to  pay  the  debt.  To  this  I  objected,  and  told  her  that  I  would 
wait  until  she  could  pay  me  at  her  convenience.  Previous  to  the  Revolu- 
tion, I  believe  that  it  was  not  in  her  power  to  fulfill  her  wish  of  discharging 
the  debt.  I  am  sorry  to  be  obliged  to  trouble  you  about  such  a  trifle,  but 
such  is  my  unfortunate  situation  that  even  this  trifle  is  of  some  importance 
to  me.  At  the  age  of  eighty-six,  general,  after  having  served  my  country 
for  sixty  years,  I  am  compelled  to  take  refuge  here,  and  to  subsist  on  a  scanty 
allowance  granted  by  the  English  government  to  French  emigrants.  I  say 
emigrants,  for  I  am  obliged  to  be  one  against  my  will." 

Upon  hearing  this  letter  read,  Napoleon  immediately  and  warmly  said, 
"  Bourrienne,  this  is  sacred.  Do  not  lose  a  moment.  Send  the  old  man  ten 
times  the  sum.  Write  to  General  Durosel  that  he  shall  be  immediately 
erased  from  the  list  of  emigrants.  What  mischief  those  brigands  of  the 
Convention  have  done.  I  can  never  repair  it  all."  Napoleon  uttered  these 
words  with  a  degree  of  emotion  which  he  had  rarely  before  evinced.  In 
the  evening  he  inquired  with  much  interest  of  Bourrienne  if  he  had  executed 
his  orders. 

Many  attempts  were  made  at  this  time  to  assassinate  the  First  Consul. 
Though  France,  with  unparalleled  unanimity,  surrounded  him  with  admira- 
tion, gratitude,  and  homage,  there  were  violent  men  in  the  two  extremes  of 
society,  among  the  Jacobins  and  the  inexorable  Royalists,  who  regarded  him 
as  in  their  way.  Napoleon's  escape  from  the  explosion'of  the  infernal  ma- 
chine, got  up  by  the  Royalists,  was  almost  miraculous. 

On  the  evening  of  the  24th  of  December,  1800,  Napoleon  was  going  to 
the  Opera  to  hear  Haydn's  Oratorio  of  the  Creation,  which  was  to  be  per- 
formed for  the  first  time.  Intensely  occupied  by  business,  he  was  reluctant 
to  go,  but,  to  gratify  Josephine,  yielded  to  her  urgent  request.  It  was  neces- 
sary for  his  carriage  to  pass  through  a  narrow  street.  A  cart,  apparently  by 
accident  overturned,  obstructed  the  passage.  A  barrel  suspended  beneath 
the  cart  contained  as  deadly  a  machine  as  could  be  constructed  with  gun- 


1801.]  HOHENLINDEN.  341 

powder  and  all  the  missiles  of  death.  The  coachman  succeeded,  in  forcing 
his  way  by  the  cart.  He  had  barely  passed  when  an  explosion  took  place, 
which  was  heard  all  over  Paris,  and  which  seemed  to  shake  the  city  to  its 
foundations.  Eight  persons  were  instantly  killed,  and  more  than  sixty  were 
wounded,  of  whom  about  twenty  subsequently  died.  The  houses  for  a  long 
distance  on  each  side  of  the  street  were  fearfully  shattered,  and  many  of 
them  were  nearly  blown  to  pieces.  The  carriage  rocked  as  upon  the  bil- 
lows of  the  sea,  and  the  windows  were  shattered  to  fragments. 


THE  INFERNAL  MACHINE. 


Napoleon  had  been  in  too  many  scenes  of  terror  to  be  alarmed  by  any 
noise  or  destruction  which  gunpowder  could  produce.  "  Ha  !"  said  he,  with 
perfect  composure,  "we  are  blown  up."  One  of  his  companions  in  the 
carriage,  greatly  terrified,  thrust  his  head  through  the  demolished  window, 
and  called  loudly  to  the  driver  to  stop.  "  No,  no !"  said  Napoleon,  "  drive  on." 

When  the  First  Consul  entered  the  opera  house,  he  appeared  perfectly 
calm  and  unmoved.  The  greatest  consternation,  however,  prevailed  in  all 
parts  of  the  house,  for  the  explosion  had  been  heard,  and  fearful  apprehen- 
sions were  felt  for  the  safety  of  the  idolized  Napoleon.  As  soon  as  he  ap- 
peared, thunders  of  applause,  which  shook  the  very  walls  of  the  theatre,  gave 
affecting  testimony  of  the  attachment  of  the  people  to  his  person.  In  a  few 
moments,  Josephine,  who  had  come  in  her  private  carriage,  entered  the  box. 
Napoleon  turned  to  her  with  perfect  tranquillity  and  said,  "The  rascals 
tried  to  blow  me  up.  Where  is  the  book  of  the  Oratorio  ?" 

Napoleon  soon  left  the  Opera  and  returned  to  the  Tuileries.  He  found  a 
vast  crowd  assembled  there,  attracted  by  affection  for  his  person  and  anxie- 
ty for  his  safety.  The  atrocity  of  this  attempt  excited  universal  horror, 
and  only  increased  the  already  almost  boundless  popularity  of  the  First 
Consul.  Deputations  and  addresses  were  immediately  poured  in  upon  him 
from  Paris  and  from  all  the  departments  of  France,  congratulating  him  upon 


342  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.  [CHAP.  XXI. 

his  escape.  It  was  at  first  thought  that  this  conspiracy  was  the  work  of 
the  Jacobins.  There  were  in  Paris  more  than  a  hundred  of  the  leaders  of 
this  execrable  party,  who  had  obtained  a  sanguinary  notoriety  during  the 
Reign  of  Terror.  They  were  active  members  of  a  Jacobin  Club,  a  violent 
and  vulgar  gathering,  continually  plotting  the  overthrow  of  the  government 
and  :he  assassination  of  the  First  Consul.  They  were  thoroughly  detested 
by  the  people,  and  the  community  was  glad  to  avail  itself  of  any  plausible 
pretext  for  banishing  them  from  France.  Without  sufficient  evidence  that 
they  were  actually  guilty  of  this  particular  outrage,  in  the  strong  excitement 
and  indignation  of  the  moment  a  decree  was  passed  by  the  legislative  bodies 
sending  one  hundred  and  sixty  of  these  bloodstained  culprits  into  exile. 

The  wish  was  earnestly  expressed  that  Napoleon  would  promptly  punish 
them  by  his  own  dictatorial  power.  Napoleon  had,  in  fact,  acquired  such 
unbounded  popularity,  and  the  nation  was  so  thoroughly  impressed  with  a 
sense  of  his  justice  and  his  wisdom,  that  whatever  he  said  was  done.  He, 
however,  insisted  that  the  business  should  be  conducted  by  the  constituted 
tribunals,  and  under  the  regular  forms  of  law. 

"  The  responsibility  of  this  measure,"  said  Napoleon,  "  must  rest  with  the 
legislative  body.  The  consuls  are  irresponsible,  but  the  ministers  are  not 
Any  one  of  them  who  should  sign  an  arbitrary  decree  might  hereafter  be 
called  to  account.  Not  a  single  individual  must  be  compromised.  The  con- 
suls themselves  know  not  what  may  happen.  As  for  me,  while  I  live,  I  am 
not  afraid  that  any  one  will  dare  to  call  me  to  account  for  my  actions.  But 
I  may  be  killed,  and  then  I  can  not  answer  for  the  safety  of  my  two  col- 
leagues. It  would  be  your  turn  to  govern,"  said  he,  smiling  and  turning  tc 
Cambaceres,  "  and  you  are  not  as  yet  very  firm  in  the  stirrups.  It  will  be 
better  to  have  a  law  for  the  present  as  well  as  for  the  future." 

It  was  finally,  after  much  deliberation,  decided  that  the  Council  of  State 
should  draw  up  a  declaration  of  the  reasons  for  the  act ;  the  First  Consul  was 
to  sign  the  decree,  and  the  Senate  was  to  declare  whether  it  was  or  was  not 
constitutional.  Thus  cautiously  did  Napoleon  proceed  under  circumstances 
so  exciting.  The  law,  however,  was  unjust  and  tyrannical.  Guilty  as  these 
men  were  of  other  crimes,  by  which  they  had  forfeited  all  sympathy,  it  sub- 
sequently appeared  that  they  were  not  guilty  of  this  crime.  Napoleon  was 
evidently  embarrassed  by  this  uncertainty  of  their  guilt,  and  was  not  willing 
that  they  should  be  denounced  as  contrivers  of  the  infernal  machine.  "We 
believe"  said  he,  "  that  they  are  guilty,  but  we  do  not  know  it.  They  must 
be  transported  for  the  crimes  which  they  have  committed,  the  massacres  and 
the  conspiracies  already  proved  against  them."  The  decree  was  passed. 
But  Napoleon,  strong  in  popularity,  became  so  convinced  of  the  powerless- 
ness  and  insignificance  of  these  Jacobins,  that  the  decree  was  never  enforced 
against  them.  They  remained  in  France,  but  they  were  conscious  that  the 
eye  of  the  police  was  upon  them. 

"It  is  not  my  own  person,"  said  Napoleon,  "that  I  seek  to  avenge.  My 
fortune,  which  has  so  often  preserved  me  on  the  field  of  battle,  will  continue 
to  preserve  me.  I  think  not  of  myself.  I  think  of  social  order,  which  it  is 
my  mission  to  re-establish,  and  of  the  national  honor,  which  it  is  my  duty  to 
purge  from  an  abominable  stain." 


1801.]  HOHENLINDEN.  343 

To  the  innumerable  addresses  of  congratulation  and  attachment  which  this 
occurrence  elicited,  Napoleon  replied :  "  I  have  been  touched  by  the  proofs 
of  affection  which  the  people  of  Paris  have  shown  me  on  this  occasion.  I 
deserve  them,  for  the  only  aim  of  my  thoughts  and  of  my  actions  is  to  aug- 
ment the  prosperity  and  the  glory  of  France.  While  those  banditti  confined 
themselves  to  direct  attacks  upon  me,  I  could  leave  to  the  laws  the  task  of 
punishing  them  ;  but  since  they  have  endangered  the  population  of  the  capi* 
tal  by  a  crime  unexampled  in  history,  the  punishment  must  be  equally  speedy 
and  terrible." 

It  was  soon  proved,  much  to  the  surprise  of  Napoleon,  that  the  atrocious 
act  was  perpetrated  by  the  partisans  of  the  Bourbons.  Many  of  the  most 
prominent  of  the  Loyalists  were  implicated  in  this  horrible  conspiracy.  Na- 
poleon felt  that  he  deserved  their  gratitude.  He  had  interposed  to  save  them 
from  the  fury  of  the  Jacobins.  Against  the  remonstrances  of  his  friends,  he 
had  passed  a  decree  which  had  restored  one  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  of 
these  wandering  emigrants  to  France.  He  had  done  every  thing  in  his  pow- 
er to  enable  them  to  regain  their  confiscated  estates.  He  had  been  in  all 
respects  their  friend  and  benefactor,  and  he  would  not  believe,  until  the 
proof  was  indisputable,  that  they  could  thus  requite  him.  The  wily  Fouche\ 
however,  dragged  the  whole  matter  into  light.  The  prominent  conspirators 
were  arrested  and  shot.  The  following  letter,  written  by  Josephine  to  the 
Minister  of  Police,  strikingly  illustrates  the  benevolence  of  her  heart,  and 
exhibits  in  a  very  honorable  light  the  character  of  Napoleon. 

"  While  I  yet  tremble  at  the  frightful  event  which  has  just  occurred,  I  am 
distressed  through  fear  of  the  punishment  to  be  inflicted  on  the  guilty,  who 
belong,  it  is  said,  to  families  with  whom  I  once  lived  in  habits  of  intercourse. 
I  shall  be  solicited  by  mothers,  sisters,  and  disconsolate  wives,  and  my  heart 
will  be  broken  through  my  inability  to  obtain  all  the  mercy  for  which  I  would 
plead.  I  know  that  the  clemency  of  the  First  Consul  is  great — his  attachment 
to  me  extreme.  The  chief  of  the  government  has  not  been  alone  exposed  ; 
and  it  is  that  which  will  render  him  severe,  inflexible.  I  conjure  you,  there- 
fore, to  do  all  in  your  power  to  prevent  inquiries  being  pushed  too  far.  Do 
not  detect  all  those  persons  who  have  been  accomplices  in  this  odious  trans- 
action. Let  not  France,  co  long  overwhelmed  in  consternation  by  public 
executions,  groan  anew  beneath  such  inflictions.  When  the  ringleaders  of 
this  nefarious  attempt  shall  have  been  secured,  let  severity  give  place  to  pity 
for  inferior  agents,  seduced,  as  they  may  have  been,  by  dangerous  falsehoods 
or  exaggerated  opinions.  As  a  woman,  a  wife,  and  a  mother,  I  must  feel  the 
heart-rendings  of  those  who  will  apply  to  me.  Act,  Citizen  Minister,  in  such 
a  way  that  the  number  of  these  may  be  lessened." 

It  seems  almost  miraculous  that  Napoleon  should  have  escaped  the  in- 
numerable conspiracies  which  at  this  time  were  formed  against  him.  The 
partisans  of  the  Bourbons  thought  that  if  Napoleon  could  be  removed,  the 
Bourbons  might  regain  their  throne.  It  was  his  resistless  genius  alone  which 
enabled  France  to  triumph  over  combined  Europe.  His  death  would  leave 
France  without  a  leader.  The  armies  of  the  Allies  could  then,  with  bloody 
strides,  march  to  Paris,  and  place  the  hated  Bourbons  on  the  throne.  Francs 
knew  this,  and  adored  its  preserver.  Monarchical  Europe  knew  this,  and 


344  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.  [CHAP.  XXI. 

hence  all  the  energies  of  its  combined  kings  were  centred  upon  Napoleon. 
More  than  thirty  of  these  conspiracies  were  detected  by  the  police. 

London  was  the  hot-house  where  they  were  engendered.  Air-guris  were 
aimed  at  Napoleon.  Assassins  dogged  him  with  their  poniards.  A  bomb- 
shell was  invented,  weighing  about  fifteen  pounds,  which  was  to  be  thrown 
in  at  his  carriage-window,  and  which,  exploding  by  its  own  concussion,  would 
hurl  death  on  every  side.  The  conspirators  were  reckless  of  the  lives  of 
others,  if  they  could  only  destroy  the  life  of  Napoleon.  The  agents  of  the 
infernal  machine  had  the  barbarity  to  get  a  young  girl,  fifteen  years  of  age, 
to  hold  the  horse  who  drew  the  machine.  This  was  to  disarm  suspicion. 
The  poor  child  was  blown  into  such  fragments  that  no  part  of  her  body, 
excepting  her  feet,  could  afterward  be  found.  At  last  Napoleon  became 
aroused,  and  declared  that  he  would  "  teach  those  Bourbons  that  he  was 
not  a  man  to  be  shot  at  like  a  dog." 

One  day,  at  St.  Helena,  as  he  was  putting  on  his  flannel  waistcoat,  he  ob- 
served Las  Casas  looking  at  him  very  steadfastly. 

"Well!  what  is  your  Excellency  thinking  of?"  said  Napoleon,  with  a 
smile. 

"  Sire,"  Las  Casas  replied,  "in  a  pamphlet  which  I  lately  read,  I  fo-  nd 
it  stated  that  your  majesty  was  shielded  by  a  coat-of-mail  for  the  security 
of  your  person.  I  was  thinking  that  I  could  bear  positive  evidence  that,  at 
St.  Helena  at  least,  all  precautions  for  personal  safety  have  been  laid  aside.'* 

"  This,"  said  Napoleon,  "  is  one  of  the  thousand  absurdities  which  have 
been  published  respecting  me.  But  the  story  you  have  just  mentioned  is  the 
more  ridiculous,  since  every  individual  about  me  well  knows  how  careless  I 
am  with  regard  to  self-preservation.  Accustomed  from  the  age  of  eighteen 
to  be  exposed  to  the  cannon-ball,  and  knowing  the  inutility  of  precautions, 
I  abandoned  myself  to  my  fate.  When  I  came  to  the  head  of  affairs,  I  might 
still  have  fancied  myself  surrounded  by  the  dangers  of  the  field  of  battle, 
and  I  might  have  regarded  the  conspiracies  which  were  formed  against  me 
as  so  many  bomb-shells.  But  I  followed  my  old  course.  I  trusted  to  my 
lucky  star,  and  left  all  precautions  to  the  police.  I  was,  perhaps,  the  only 
sovereign  in  Europe  who  dispensed  with  a  body-guard.  Every  one  could 
freely  approach  me  without  having,  as  it  were,  to  pass  through  military  bar- 
racks. 

"Maria  Louisa  was  much  astonished  to  see  me  so  poorly  guarded,  and  she 
often  remarked  that  her  father  was  surrounded  by  bayonets.  For  my  part, 
I  had  no  better  defense  at  the  Tuileries  than  I  have  here.  I  do  not  even 
know  where  to  find  my  sword,"  said  he,  looking  around  the  room ;  "  do  you 
see  it  ?  I  have,  to  be  sure,  incurred  great  dangers.  Upward  of  thirty  plots 
were  formed  against  me.  These  have  been  proved  by  authentic  testimony, 
without  mentioning  many  which  never  came  to  light.  Some  sovereigns  in- 
vent conspiracies  against  themselves  ;  for  my  part,  I  made  it  a  rule  carefully 
to  conceal  them  whenever  I  could.  The  crisis  most  serious  to  me  was  dur- 
ing the  interval  from  the  battle  of  Marengo  to  the  attempt  of  (pfeorge  Ca- 
doudal  and  the  affair  of  the  Duke  d'Enghien  " 

Napoleon  now,  with  his  accustomed  vigor,  took  hold  of  the  robbers,  and 
made  short  work  with  them.  The  insurgent  armies  of  La  Vendee,  number- 


1801.]  HOHENLINDEN.  345 

ing  more  than  one  hundred  thousand  men,  and  filled  with  adventurers  and 
desperadoes  of  every  kind,  were  disbanded  when  their  chiefs  yielded  homage 
to  Napoleon.  Many  of  these  men,  accustomed  to  banditti  warfare,  took  to 
the  highways.  The  roads  were  so  infested  by  them  that  traveling  became 
exceedingly  perilous,  and  it  was  necessary  that  every  stage-coach  which  left 
Paris  should  be  accompanied  by  a  guard  of  armed  soldiers.  To  remedy  a 
state  of  society  thus  convulsed  to  its  very  centre,  special  tribunals  were  or- 
ganized, consisting  of  eight  judges.  They  were  to  take  cognizance  of  all 
such  crimes  as  conspiracies,  robberies,  and  acts  of  violence  of  any  kind. 

The  armed  bands  of  Napoleon  swept  over  France  like  a  whirlwind.  The 
robbers  were  seized,  tried,  and  shot  without  delay.  Order  was  at  once  re- 
stored. The  people  thought  not  of  the  dangerous  power  they  were  placing 
in  the  hands  of  the  First  Consul ;  they  asked  only  for  a  commander  who 
was  able  and  willing  to  quell  the  tumult  of  the  times.  Such  a  commander 
they  found  in  Napoleon.  They  were  more  than  willing  to  confer  upon  him 
all  the  power  he  could  desire.  "  You  know  what  is  best  for  us,"  said  the 
people  to  Napoleon.  "  Direct  us  what  to  do,  and  we  will  do  it."  It  was 
thus  that  absolute  power  came  voluntarily  into  his  hands.  Under  the  cir- 
cumstances, it  was  so  natural  that  it  can  excite  no  surprise  He  was  called 
First  Consul ;  but  he  already  swayed  a  sceptre  more  mighty  than  that  of 
the  Caesars.  But  sixteen  months  had  now  elapsed  since  Napoleon  landed 
at  Frejus.  In  that  time  he  had  attained  the  throne  of  France.  He  had 
caused  order  and  prosperity  to  emerge  from  the  chaos  of  revolution.  By  his 
magnanimity  he  had  disarmed  Russia,  by  his  armies  had  humbled  Austria, 
and  had  compelled  Continental  Europe  to  accept  an  honorable  peace.  He 
merited  the  gratitude  of  his  countrymen,  and  he  received  it  in  overflowing 
measure.  Through  all  these  incidents,  so  eventful  and  so  full  of  difficulty, 
it  is  not  easy  to  point  to  a  single  act  of  Napoleon's  which  indicates  a  mali- 
cious or  an  ungenerous  spirit. 

"  I  fear  nothing,"  said  Napoleon  at  St.  Helena,  "  for  my  renown.  Poster- 
ity will  do  me  justice.  It  will  compare  the  good  which  I  have  done  with 
the  faults  which  I  have  committed.  If  I  had  succeeded,  I  should  have  died 
with  the  reputation  of  being  the  greatest  man  who  ever  existed.  From  being 
nothing,  I  became,  by  my  own  exertions,  the  most  powerful  monarch  of  the 
universe,  without  committing  any  crime.  My  ambition  was  great,  but  it 
rested  on  the  opinion  of  the  masses.  I  have  always  thought  that  sovereignty 
resides  in  the  people.  The  empire,  as  I  had  organized  it,  was  but  a  great 
republic.  Called  to  the  throne  by  the  voice  of  the  people,  my  maxim  has 
always  been,  a  career  open  to  talent  without  distinction  of  birth.  It  is  for 
this  system  of  equality  that  the  European  oligarchy  detests  me.  And  yet," 
in  England,  talent  and  great  services  raise  a  man  to  the  highest  rank.  En- 
gland should  have  understood  me." 

"  The  French  Revolution,"  said  Napoleon,  "  was  a  general  movement  of 
the  mass  of  the  nation  against  the  privileged  classes.  The  nobles  were  ex- 
empt from  the  burdens  of  the  state,  and  yet  exclusively  occupied  all  the 
posts  of  honor  and  emolument.  The  Revolution  destroyed  these  exclusive 
privileges,  and  established  equality  of  rights.  All  the  avenues  to  wealth  and 
greatness  were  equally  open  to  every  citizen,  according  to  his  talents.  The 


346  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.  [CHAP.  XXI. 

French  nation  established  the  imperial  throne,  and  placed  me  upon  it.  The 
throne  of  France  was  granted  before  to  Hugh  Capet,  by  a  few  bishops  and 
nobles.  The  imperial  throne  was  given  to  me  by  the  desire  of  the  people." 

Joseph  Bonaparte  was  of  very  essential  service  to  Napoleon  in  the  diplo- 
matic intercourse  of  the  times.  Lucien  also  was  employed  in  various  ways, 
and  the  whole  family  were  l^aken  under  the  protection  of  the  First  Consul. 
At  St.  Helena,  Napoleon  uttered  the  following  graphic  and  truthful  eulogium 
upon  his  brothers  and  sisters  :  "  What  family,  in  similar  circumstances,  would 
have  acted  better  ?  Every  one  is  not  qualified  to  be  a  statesman.  That  re- 
quires a  combination  of  powers  which  does  not  often  fall  to  the  lot  of  any 
one.  In  this  respect  all  my  brothers  were  singularly  situated ;  they  pos- 
sessed at  once  too  much  and  too  little  talent.  They  felt  themselves  too 
strong  to  resign  themselves  blindly  to  a  guiding  counselor,  and  yet  too  weak 
to  be  left  entirely  to  themselves.  But  take  them  all  in  all,  I  have  certainly 
good  reason  to  be  proud  of  my  family.  Joseph  would  have  been  an  honor 
to  society  in  any  country,  and  Lucien  would  have  been  an  honor  to  any 
assembly.  Jerome,  as  he  advanced  in  life,  would  have  developed  every 
qualification  requisite  in  a  sovereign.  Louis  would  have  been  distinguished 
in  any  rank  or  condition  of  life.  My  sister  Eliza  was  endowed  with  mascu- 
line powers  of  mind  ;  she  must  have  proved  herself  a  philosopher  in  her  ad- 
verse fortune.  Caroline  possessed  great  talents  and  capacity.  Pauline, 
perhaps  the  most  beautiful  woman  of  her  age,  has  been,  and  will  continue  to 
the  end  of  her  life,  the  most  amiable  creature  in  the  world.  As  to  my  moth- 
er, she  deserves  all  kinds  of  veneration.  How  seldom  is  so  numerous  a  fam- 
ily entitled  to  so  much  praise.  Add  to  this  that,  setting  aside  the  jarring 
of  political  opinions,  we  sincerely  loved  each  other.  For  my  part,  I  never 
ceased  to  cherish  fraternal  affection  for  them  all ;  and  I  am  convinced  that 
in  their  hearts  they  felt  the  same  sentiments  toward  me,  and  that,  in  case  of 
need,  they  would  have  given  me  every  proof  of  it." 

The  proud  old  nobility,  whom  Napoleon  had  restored  to  France,  and  upon 
many  of  whom  he  had  conferred  their  confiscated  estates,  manifested  no 
gratitude  toward  their  benefactor.  They  were  sighing  for  the  re-enthrone- 
ment of  the  Bourbons,  and  for  the  return  of  the  good  old  times,  when  all  the 
offices  of  emolument  and  honor  were  reserved  for  them  and  for  their  children, 
and  the  people  were  but  their  hewers  of  wood  and  drawers  of  water.  In  the 
morning,  as  beggars,  they  would  crowd  the  audience  chamber  of  the  First 
Consul  with  their  petitions.  In  the  evening  they  disdained  to  honor  his 
levees  with  their  presence.  They  spoke  contemptuously  of  Josephine,  of 
her  kindness,  and  her  desire  to  conciliate  all  parties.  They  condemned  ev- 
ery thing  that  Napoleon  did.  He,  however,  paid  no  heed  to  their  murmur- 
ings.  He  would  not  condescend  even  to  punish  them  by  neglect.  In  that 
most  lofty  pride  which  induced  him  to  say  that,  in  his  administration,  he 
wished  to  imitate  the  clemency  of  God,  he  endeavored  to  consult  for  the  in- 
terests of  all,  both  the  evil  and  the  unthankful.  His  fame  was  to  consist, 
not  in  revenging  himself  upon  his  enemies,  but  in  aggrandizing  France. 

At  this  time  Napoleon's  establishment  at  the  Tuileries  rather  resembled 
that  of  a  very  rich  gentleman  than  the  court  of  a  monarch.  Junot,  one  of 
his  aids,  was  married  to  Mademoiselle  Permon,  the  young  lady  whose  name 


1801.]  HOHENLINDEN.  347 

will  be  remembered  in  connection  with  the  anecdote  of  "  Puss  in  Boots." 
Her  mother  was  one  of  the  most  haughty  of  the  ancient  nobility,  who  affect- 
ed to  look  upon  Napoleon  with  contempt,  as  not  of  royal  blood.  The  even- 
ing after  her  marriage,  Madame  Junot  was  to  be  presented  to  Josephine. 
After  the  Opera  she  drove  to  the  Tuileries.  It  was  near  eleven  o'clock. 
As  Josephine  had  appointed  the  hour,  she  was  expected.  Eugene,  hearing 
the  wheels  of  the  carriage,  descended  to  the  court-yard,  presented  his  arm 
to  Madame  Junot,  and  they  entered  the  large  saloon  together.  It  was  a 
magnificent  apartment,  magnificently  furnished.  Two  chandeliers,  sur- 
rounded with  gauze  to  soften  the  glare,  shed  a  subdued  and  grateful  light 
over  the  room.  Josephine  was  seated  before  a  tapestry-frame  working  upon 
embroidery.  Near  her  sat  Hortense,  sylph-like  in  figure,  and  surpassingly 
gentle  and  graceful  in  her  manners.  Napoleon  was  standing  near  Josephine, 
with  his  hands  clasped  behind  him,  engaged  in  conversation  with  his  wife 
and  her  lovely  daughter.  Upon  the  entrance  of  Madame  Junot,  Josephine 
immediately  arose,  took  her  two  hands,  and  affectionately  kissing  her,  said, 

"  I  have  too  long  been  Junot's  friend  not  to  entertain  the  same  sentiments 
for  his  wife,  particularly  for  the  one  he  has  chosen." 

"  Oh,  Josephine  !"  said  Napoleon,  "  that  is  running  on  very  fast.  How 
do  you  know  that  this  little  pickle  is  worth  loving  ?  Well,  Mademoiselle 
Loulou  (you  see  that  I  do  not  forget  the  names  of  my  old  friends),  have  you 
not  a  word  for  me  ?"  Saying  this,  he  gently  took  her  hand  and  drew  her 
toward  him. 

The  young  bride  was  much  embarrassed,  and  yet  she  struggled  to  retain 
her  pride  of  birth.  "  General,"  she  replied,  smiling,  "  it  is  not  for  me  to 
speak  first." 

"  Very  well  parried,"  said  Napoleon,  playfully :  "  the  mother's  spirit !  And 
how  is  Madame  Permon  ?" 

"Very  ill,  general.  For  two  years  her  health  has  caused  us  great  un- 
easiness." 

"  Indeed !"  said  Napoleon ;  "  so  bad  as  that  ?  I  am  sorry  to  hear  it — very 
sorry.  Make  my  regards  to  her.  It  is  a  wrong  head,  a  proud  spirit,  but 
she  has  a  generous  heart  and  a  noble  soul.  I  hope  that  we  shall  often  see 
you,  Madame  Junot.  My  intention  is  to  draw  around  me  a  numerous  fam- 
ily, consisting  of  my  generals  and  their  young  wives.  They  will  be  friends 
of  my  wife  and  of  Hortense,  as  their  husbands  are  my  friends.  But  you 
must  not  expect  to  meet  here  your  acquaintances  of  the  ancient  nobility.  I 
do  not  like  them.  They  are  my  enemies,  and  prove  it  by  defaming  me." 

This  was  but  the  morning  twilight  of  that  imperial  splendor  which  after- 
ward dazzled  the  most  powerful  potentates  of  Europe.  Hortense,  who  sub- 
sequently became  the  wife  of  Louis  Bonaparte,  and  the  mother  of  Louis  Na- 
poleon, who,  at  the  moment  of  this  present  writing,  is  at  the  head  of  the  gov- 
ernment of  France,  was  then  seventeen  years  of  age.  "  She  was,"  says 
Madame  Junot,  "  fresh  as  a  rose.  Though  her  fair  complexion  was  not  re- 
lieved by  much  color,  she  had  enough  to  produce  that  freshness  and  bloom 
which  was  her  chief  beauty.  A  profusion  of  li^ht  hair  played  in  silken  locks 
around  her  soft  and  penetrating  blue  eyes.  The  delicate  roundness  of  her 
figure,  slender  as  a  palm-tree,  was  set  off  by  the  elegant  carriage  of  her 


348  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.  [CHAP.  XXII. 

head.  But  that  which  formed  the  chief  attraction  of  Hortense  was  the  grace 
and  suavity  of  her  manners,  which  united  the  Creole  nonchalance  with  the 
vivacity  of  France.  She  was  gay,  gentle,  and  amiable.  She  had  wit,  which, 
without  the  smallest  ill  temper,  had  just  malice  enough  to  be  amusing.  A 
polished  and  well-conducted  education  had  improved  her  natural  talents. 
She  drew  excellently,  sang  harmoniously,  and  performed  admirably  in  com- 
edy. In  1800  she  was  a  charming  young  girl.  She  afterward  became  one 
of  the  most  amiable  princesses  in  Europe.  I  have  seen  many,  both  in  their 
own  courts  and  in  Paris,  but  I  have  never  known  one  who  had  any  preten- 
sions to  equal  talents.  She  was  beloved  by  every  one.  Her  brother  loved 
her  tenderly.  The  First  Consul  looked  upon  her  as  his  child." 

Napoleon  has  been  accused  of  an  improper  affection  for  Hortense.  The 
world  has  been  filled  with  the  slander.  "  Napoleon,"  says  Bourrienne, 
"  never  cherished  for  her  any  feeling  but  a  real  paternal  tenderness.  He 
loved  her,  after  his  marriage  with  her  mother,  as  he  would  have  loved  his 
own  child.  At  least  for  three  years  I  was  a  witness  to  all  their  most  private 
actions,  and  I  declare  I  never  saw  any  thing  that  could  furnish  the  least 
ground  for  suspicion,  nor  the  slightest  trace  of  a  culpable  intimacy.  This 
calumny  must  be  classed  among  those  which  malice  delights  to  take  in  the 
character  of  men  who  become  celebrated,  calumnies  which  are  adopted 
lightly  and  without  reflection.  Napoleon  is  no  more.  Let  his  memory  be 
accompanied  only  by  that,  be  it  good  or  bad,  which  really  took  place.  Let 
not  this  reproach  be  made  a  charge  against  him  by  the  impartial  historian. 
I  must  say,  in  conclusion,  on  this  delicate  subject,  that  his  principles  were 
rigid  in  an  extreme  degree,  and  that  any  fault  of  the  nature  charged  neither 
entered  his  mind,  nor  was  in  accordance  with  his  morals  or  his  taste." 

At  St.  Helena  Napoleon  was  one  day  looking  over  a  book  containing  an 
account  of  his  amours.  He  smiled  as  he  glanced  his  eye  over  the  pages, 
saying,  "  I  do  not  even  know  the  names  of  most  of  the  females  who  are 
mentioned  here.  This  is  all  very  foolish.  Every  body  knows  that  I  had  no 
time  for  such  dissipation." 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

PEACE    WITH    ENGLAND. 

Treaty  with  the  United  States — Election  of  Pope — The  Queen  of  Naples — Coronation  of  the  King 
and  Queen  of  Etruria — Madame  de  Montesson — Right  of  Search — Heroism  of  Nelson — Death 
of  the  Emperor  Paul — Succors  for  Egypt — Condition  of  England — Determination  of  Napoleon — 
Uneasiness  in  England — The  Sailor's  Mistake — Cornwallis — Terms  of  Peace — Napoleon's  At- 
tachment to  Fox. 

IT  was  the  first  great  object  of  Napoleon,  immediately  upon  his  accession 
to  power,  to  reconcile  France  with  Europe,  and  to  make  peace  with  all  the 
world.  France  was  weary  of  war.  She  needed  repose  to  recover  from  the 
turmoil  of  revolution.  Napoleon,  conscious  of  the  necessities  of  France,  was 
consecrating-  all  his  energies  for  the  promotion  of  peace.  The  Directory,  by 
oppressive  acts,  had  excited  the  indignation  of  the  United  States.  Napo. 
leon,  by  a  course  of  conciliation,  immediately  removed  that  hostility,  and, 


1801.]  PEACE  WITH  ENGLAND.  349 

but  a  short  time  before  the  treaty  of  Luneville,  ratified  a  treaty  of  amity  be- 
tween France  and  the  United  States.  The  signature  of  this  treaty  was  cel- 
ebrated with  great  rejoicings  at  the  beautiful  country  seat  which  Joseph, 
who,  in  consequence  of  his  marriage,  was  richer  than  his  brother,  had  pur- 
chased at  Morfontaine.  Napoleon,  accompanied  by  a  brilliant  party,  met 
the  American  commissioners  there.  The  most  elegant  decorations  within 
the  mansion  and  in  the  gardens  represented  France  and  America  joined  in 
friendly  union. 

Napoleon  presented  the  following  toast :  "  The  memory  of  the  French  and 
the  Americans  who  died  on  the  field  of  battle  for  the  independence  of  the 
New  World." 

Lebrun,  the  Second  Consul,  proposed,  "  The  union  of  America  with  the 
Northern  powers,  to  enforce  respect  for  the  liberty  of  the  seas." 

Cambaceres  gave  for  the  third  toast,  "  The  successor  of  Washington." 
Thus  did  Napoleon  endeavor  to  secure  the  friendship  of  the  United  States. 

About  this  time  Pope  Pius  VI.  died,  and  the  cardinals  met  to  choose  his 
successor.  The  respect  with  which  Napoleon  had  treated  the  Pope,  and  his 
kindness  to  the  emigrant  priests  during  the  first  Italian  campaign,  presented 
so  strong  a  contrast  with  the  violence  enjoined  by  the  Directory,  as  to  pro- 
duce a  profound  impression  upon  the  minds  of  the  Pope  and  the  cardinals. 

The  Bishop  of  Imola  was  universally  esteemed  for  his  extensive  learning, 
his  gentle  virtues,  and  his  firm  probity.  Upon  the  occasion  of  the  union  of 
his  diocese  with  the  Cisalpine  Republic,  he  preached  a  very  celebrated  ser- 
mon, in  which  he  spoke  of  the  conduct  of  the  French  in  terms  highly  gratify- 
ing to  the  young  conqueror.  The  power  of  Napoleon  was  now  in  the  as- 
cendant. It  was  deemed  important  to  conciliate  his  favor. 

"  It  is  from  France,"  said  Cardinal  Gonsalvi,  "that  persecutions  have  come 
upon  us  for  the  last  ten  years.  It  is  from  France,  perhaps,  that  we  shall 
derive  aid  and  consolation  for  the  future.  A  very  extraordinary  young  man, 
one  very  difficult  as  yet  to  judge,  holds  dominion  there  at  the  present  day. 
His  influence  will  soon  be  paramount  in  Italy.  Remember  that  he  protect- 
ed the  priests  in  1797.  He  has  recently  conferred  funeral  honors  upon  Pius 
VI."  These  were  words  of  deep  foresight.  They  were  appreciated  by  the 
sagacious  cardinals.  To  conciliate  the  favor  of  Napoleon,  the  Bishop  of 
Imola  was  elected  to  the  pontifical  chair  as  Pope  Pius  VII. 

Naples  had  been  most  perfidious  in  its  hostility  to  France.  The  Queen 
of  Naples  was  a  proud  daughter  of  Maria  Theresa,  and  sister  of  the  Empe- 
ror of  Austria  and  of  the  unfortunate  Maria  Antoinette.  She  surely  must 
not  be  too  severely  condemned  for  execrating  a  revolution  which  had  con- 
signed her  sister  to  the  dungeon  and  to  the  guillotine.  Naples,  deprived  of 
Austrian  aid,  was  powerless.  She  trembled  under  apprehension  of  the  ven- 
geance of  Napoleon.  The  King  of  Austria  could  no  longer  render  his  sister 
any  assistance.  She  adopted  the  decisive  and  romantic  expedient  of  pro- 
ceeding in  person,  notwithstanding  the  rigor  of  the  approaching  winter,  to 
St.  Petersburg,  to  implore  the  intercession  of  the  Emperor  Paul.  The  eccen- 
tric monarch,  flattered  by  the  supplication  of  the  beautiful  queen,  immediate- 
ly espoused  her  cause,  and  dispatched  a  messenger  to  Napoleon,  soliciting 
him,  as  a  personal  favor,  to  deal  gently  with  Naples. 
VOL.  II.— D 


350  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.  [CHAP.  XXII. 

The  occurrence  was,  of  course,  a  triumph  and  a  gratification  to  Napoleon. 
Most  promptly  and  courteously  he  responded  to  the  appeal.  It  was  indeed 
his  constant  study  at  this  time  to  arrest  the  further  progress  of  the  Revolu- 
tion, to  establish  the  interests  of  France  upon  a  basis  of  order  and  of  law,  and 
to  conciliate  the  surrounding  monarchies  by  proving  to  them  that  he  had  no 
disposition  to  revolutionize  their  realms.  A  word  from  him  wrould  have 
driven  the  King  and  Queen  of  Naples  into  exile,  and  would  have  converted 
their  kingdom  into  a  republic.  But  Napoleon  refused  to  utter  that  word, 
and  sustained  the  King  of  Naples  upon  his  throne. 

The  Duke  of  Parma,  brother  of  the  King  of  Spain,  had,  through  the  in- 
tercession of  Napoleon,  obtained  the  exchange  of  his  duchy  for  the  beautiful 
province  of  Tuscany.  The  First  Consul  had  also  erected  Tuscany  into  the 
kingdom  of  Etruria,  containing  about  one  million  of  inhabitants.  The  old 
duke,  a  bigoted  prince  inimical  to  all  reform,  had  married  his  son,  a  feeble, 
frivolous  young  man,  to  the  daughter  of  his  brother,  the  King  of  Spain.  The 
kingdom  of  Etruria  was  intended  for  this  youthful  pair.  Napoleon,  as  yet 
but  thirty  years  of  age,  thus  found  himself  forming  kingdoms  and  creating 
kings.  The  young  couple  were  in  haste  to  ascend  the  throne.  They  could 
not,  however,  do  this  until  the  Duke  of  Parma  should  die  or  abdicate.  The 
unaccommodating  old  duke  refused  to  do  either. 

Napoleon,  desirous  of  producing  a  moral  impression  in  Paris,  was  anxious 
to  crown  them.  He  therefore  allowed  the  old  duke  to  retain  Parma  until 
his  death,  that  his  son  might  be  placed  upon  the  throne  of  Etruria.  He 
wished  to  exhibit  the  spectacle,  in  the  regicide  metropolis  of  France,  of  a  king 
created  and  enthroned  by  France.  Thus  he  hoped  to  dimmish  the  antipathy 
to  kings,  and  to  prepare  the  way  for  that  restoration  of  the  monarchical 
power  which  he  contemplated.  He  would  also  thus  conciliate  monarchical 
Europe,  by  proving  that  he.  had  no  design  of  overthrowing  every  kingly 
throne.  It  was,  indeed,  adroitly  done.  He  required,  therefore,  the  youthful 
princes  to  come  to  Paris  to  accept  the  crown  from  his  hands,  as  in  ancient 
Rome  vassal  monarchs  received  the  sceptre  from  the  Caesars.  The  young 
candidates  for  monarchy  left  Madrid  and  repaired  to  the  Tuileries,  to  be 
placed  upon  the  throne  by  the  First  Consul.  This  measure  had  two  aspects, 
each  exceedingly  striking.  It  frowned  upon  the  hostility  of  the  people  to 
royalty,  and  it  silenced  the  clamor  against  France  as  seeking  to  spread  de- 
mocracy over  the  ruins  of  all  thrones.  It  also  proudly  said,  in  tones  which 
must  have  been  excessively  annoying  to  the  haughty  legitimists  of  Europe, 
"  You  kings  must  be  childlike  and  humble.  You  see  that  I  can  create  such 
beings  as  you  are." 

Napoleon,  conscious  that  his  glory  elevated  him  far  above  the  ancient  dy- 
nasty whose  station  he  occupied,  was  happy  to  receive  the  young  princes 
with  pomp  and  splendor.  The  versatile  Parisians,  ever  delighted  with  nov- 
elty, forgot  the  twelve  years  of  bloody  revolutions  which  had  overturned  so 
many  thrones,  and  recognizing  in  this  strange  spectacle  the  fruits  of  their 
victories  and  the  triumph  of  their  cause,  shouted  most  enthusiastically,  "  Long 
live  the  king  !"  The  Royalists,  on  the  other  hand,  chragrined  and  sullen,  an- 
swered passionately,  "  Down  with  kings  !"  Strange  reverse  !  yet  how  natural ! 
Each  party  must  have  been  surprised  and  bewildered  at  its  own  novel  position. 


1801.]  PEACE  WITH  ENGLAND.  351 

In  settling  the  etiquette  of  this  visit,  it  was  decided  that  the  young  princes 
should  call  first  upon  Napoleon,  and  that  he  should  return  their  call  the  next 
day.  The  First  Consul,  at  the  head  of  his  brilliant  military  staff,  received  the 
young  monarch  with  parental  tenderness  and  with  the  most  delicate  attentions, 
yet  with  the  universally  recognized  superiorities  of  power  and  glory.  The 
princes  were  entertained  at  the  magnificent  chateau  of  Talleyrand  at  Neuilly 
with  brilliant  festivals  and  illuminations.  For  a  month  the  capital  presented 
a  scene  of  gorgeous  fetes.  Napoleon,  too  entirely  engrossed  with  the  cares 
of  empire  to  devote  much  time  to  these  amusements,  assigned  the  entertain- 
ment of  his  guests  to  his  ministers.  Nevertheless,  he  endeavored  to  give  some 
advice  to  the  young  couple  about  to  reign  over  Etruria.  He  was  much 
struck  with  the  weakness  of  the  prince,  who  cherished  no  sense  of  responsi- 
bility, and  was  entirely  devoted  to  trivial  pleasures.  He  was  exceedingly 
interested  in  the  mysteries  of  cotillons,  of  leap-frog,  and  of  hide-and-go-seek, 
and  was  ever  thus  trifling  with  the  courtiers. 

Napoleon  saw  that  he  was  perfectly  incapable  of  governing,  and  said  to 
one  of  his  ministers,  "  You  perceive  that  they  are  princes  descended  from 
an  ancient  line.  How  can  the  reins  of  government  be  intrusted  to  such 
hands  ?  But  it  was  well  to  show  to  France  this  specimen  of  the  Bourbons. 
She  can  judge  if  these  ancient  dynasties  are  equal  to  the  difficulties  of  an 
age  like  ours."  As  the  young  king  left  Paris  for  his  dominions,  Napoleon 
remarked  to  a  friend,  "  Rome  need  not  be  uneasy.  There  is  no  danger  of 
his  crossing  the  Rubicon."  Napoleon  sent  one  of  his  generals  to  Etruria  with 
the  royal  pair,  ostensibly  as  the  minister  of  France,  but  in  reality  as  the  vice- 
roy of  the  First  Consul.  The  feeble  monarch  desired  only  the  rank  and 
splendor  of  a  king,  and  was  glad  to  be  released  from  the  cares  of  empire. 
Of  all  the  proud  acts  performed  by  Napoleon  during  his  extraordinary  career, 
this  creation  of  the  Etrurian  king,  when  viewed  in  all  its  aspects,  was,  per- 
haps, the  proudest. 

Madame  de  Montesson  had  become  the  guilty  paramour  of  the  Duke  of 
Orleans,  grandfather  of  Louis  Philippe.  She  was  not  at  all  ashamed  of  this 
relation,  which  was  sanctioned  by  the  licentiousness  of  the  times.  Proud 
even  of  this  alliance  with  a  prince  of  the  blood,  she  fancied  that  it  was  her 
privilege,  as  the  only  relative  of  the  royal  line  then  in  Paris,  to  pay  to  the 
King  and  Queen  of  Etruria  such  honors  as  they  might  be  gratified  in  receiv- 
ing from  the  remains  of  the  old  court  society.  She  therefore  made  a  brill- 
iant party,  inviting  all  the  returned  emigrants  of  illustrious  birth.  She  even 
had  the  boldness  to  invite  the  family  of  the  First  Consul  and  the  distinguish- 
ed persons  of  his  suite.  The  invitation  was  concealed  from  Napoleon,  as  his 
determination  to  frown  upon  all  immorality  was  well  known.  The  next 
morning  Napoleon  heard  of  the  occurrence,  and  severely  reprimanded  those 
of  his  suite  who  had  attended  the  party,  dwelling  with  great  warmth  upon 
the  impropriety  of  countenancing  vice  in  high  places.  Savary,  who  attended 
the  party  and  shared  in  the  reprimand,  says  that  Madame  de  Montesson 
would  have  been  severely  punished  had  it  not  been  for  the  intervention  of 
Josephine,  who  was  ever  ready  to  plead  for  mercy. 

Napoleon,  having  made  peace  with  Continental  Europe,  now  turned  his  at- 
tention earnestly  to  England,  that  he  might  compel  that  unrelenting  antago- 


352  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.  [CHAP.  XXII. 

nist  to  lay  down  her  arms.  "  France,"  said  he,  "  will  not  reap  all  the  bless- 
ings of  a  pacification  until  she  shall  have  a  peace  with  England.  But  a  sort 
of  delirium  has  seized  on  that  government,  which  now  holds  nothing  sacred. 
Its  conduct  is  unjust,  not  only  toward  the  French  people,  but  toward  all  the 
other  powers  of  the  Continent ;  and  when  governments  are  not  just,  their  au- 
thority is  short-lived.  All  the  Continental  powers  must  force  England  to  fall 
back  into  the  track  of  moderation,  of  equity,  and  of  reason." 

Notwithstanding  this  state  of  hostilities  it  is  pleasant  to  witness  the  inter- 
change of  the  courtesy  of  letters.  Early  in  January  of  1801,  Napoleon  sent 
some  very  valuable  works,  magnificently  bound,  as  a  present  to  the  Royal 
Society  of  London.  A  complimentary  letter  accompanied  the  present,  signed 
BONAPARTE,  President  of  the  National  Institute,  and  First  Consul  of  France. 
As  a  significant  intimation  of  his  principles,  there  was  on  the  letter  a  finely 
executed  vignette  representing  Liberty  sailing  on  the  ocean  in  an  open  shell, 
with  the  following  motto  : 

"  LIBERTY   OF  THE    SEAS." 

England  claimed  the  right  of  visiting  and  searching  merchant  ships,  to 
whatever  nation  belonging,  whatever  the  cargoes,  wherever  the  destination. 
For  any  resistance  of  this  right,  she  enforced  the  penalty  of  the  confiscation 
of  both  ship  and  cargo.  She  asserted  that  nothing  was  necessary  to  consti- 
tute a  blockade  but  to  announce  the  fact,  and  to  station  a  vessel  to  cruise 
before  a  blockaded  port.  Thus  all  the  nations  of  the  world  were  forbidden 
by  England  to  approach  a  port  of  France.  The  English  government  stren- 
uously contended  that  these  principles  were  in  accordance  with  the  estab- 
lished regulations  of  maritime  law.  The  neutral  powers,  on  the  other  hand, 
affirmed  that  these  demands  were  a  usurpation  on  the  part  of  England, 
founded  on  power,  unsanctioned  by  the  usages  of  nations,  or  by  the  princi- 
ples of  maritime  jurisprudence.  "  Free  ships,"  said  they,  "  make  free 
goods.  The  flag  covers  the  merchandise.  A  port  is  to  be  considered  block- 
aded only  when  such  a  force  is  stationed  at  its  mouth  as  renders  it  dangerous 
to  enter." 

Under  these  circumstances,  it  was  not  very  difficult  for  Napoleon  to  turn 
the  arms  of  the  united  world  against  his  most  powerful  foe.  England  had 
allied  all  the  powers  of  the  world  against  France  ;  now  Napoleon  combined 
them  all  in  friendly  alliance  with  him,  and  directed  their  energies  against 
his  unyielding  and  unintimidated  assailant.  England  was  mistress  of  the 
seas.  Upon  that  element  she  was  more  powerful  than  all  Europe  united. 
It  was  one  great  object  of  the  British  ministry  to  prevent  any  European 
power  from  becoming  the  maritime  rival  of  England.  Napoleon,  as  he  cast 
his  eye  over  his  magnificent  empire  of  forty  millions  of  inhabitants,  and  sur- 
veyed his  invincible  armies,  was  excessively  annoyed  that  the  fifteen  millions 
of  people  crowded  into  the  little  island  of  England  should  have  undisputed 
dominion  over  the  whole  wide  world  of  waters. 

The  English  have  ever  been  respected  above  all  other  nations  for  wealth, 
power,  courage,  intelligence,  and  all  stern  virtues,  but  they  never  have  been 
beloved.  The  English  nation  is  at  the  present  moment  the  most  powerful, 
the  most  respected,  and  the  most  unpopular  upon  the  surface  of  the  globe. 


1801.]  PEACE  WITH  ENGLAND.  353 

Providence  deals  in  compensations.  It  is  perhaps  unreasonable  to  expect 
that  all  the  virtues  should  be  centred  in  one  people.  "  When,"  exclaimed 
Napoleon,  "  will  the  French  exchange  their  vanity  for  a  little  pride  ?"  It 
may  be  rejoined,  "  When  will  the  English  lay  aside  their  pride  for  a  little 
vanity — that  perhaps  more  ignoble,  but  certainly  better-natured  foible  ?" 

England,  abandoned  by  all  her  allies,  continued  the  war,  apparently  be- 
cause her  pride  revolted  at  being  conquered  into  a  peace.  And,  in  truth, 
England  had  not  been  vanquished  at  all.  Her  fleets  were  every  where  tri- 
umphant. The  blows  of  Napoleon,  which  fell  with  such  terrible  severity 
upon  her  allies,  could  not  reach  her  floating  batteries.  The  genius  of  Napo- 
leon overshadowed  the  land.  The  genius  of  Pitt  swept  the  seas.  The  com- 
merce of  France  was  entirely  annihilated.  The  English  navy,  in  the  utter 
destitution  of  nobler  game,  even  pursued  poor  French  fishermen,  and  took 
away  their  haddock  and  their  cod.  The  verdict  of  history  will  probably 
pronounce  that  this  was  at  least  a  less  magnificent  rapacity  than  to  despoil 
regal  and  ducal  galleries  of  the  statues  of  Phidias  and  the  cartoons  of  Ra- 
phael. 

England  declared  France  to  be  in  a  state  of  blockade,  and  forbade  all  the 
rest  of  the  world  from  having  any  commercial  intercourse  with  her.  Her 
invincible  fleet  swept  all  seas.  WTherever  an  English  frigate  encountered 
any  merchant  ship,  belonging  to  whatever  nation,  a  shot  was  fired  across  her 
bows  as  a  very  emphatic  command  to  stop.  If  the  command  was  unheeded, 
a  broadside  followed,  and  the  peaceful  merchantman  became  lawful  prize. 
If  the  vessel  stopped,  a  boat  was  launched  from  the  frigate,  a  young  lieuten- 
ant ascended  the  sides  of  the  merchantman,  demanded  of  the  captain  the  pa- 
pers, and  searched  the  ship.  If  he  found  on  board  any  goods  which  he  judged 
to  belong  to  France,  he  took  them  away.  If  he  could  find  any  goods  which 
he  could  consider  as  munitions  of  war,  and  which,  in  his  judgment,  the  ship 
was  conveying  to  France,  the  merchantman,  with  all  its  contents,  was  con- 
fiscated. Young  lieutenants  in  the  navy  are  not  proverbial  for  wasting  many 
words  in  compliments.  They  were  often  overbearing  and  insolent.  En- 
gland contended  that  these  were  the  established  principles  of  maritime  law. 

All  the  nations  of  Europe,  now  at  peace  with  France,  excessively  annoyed 
at  this  right  of  search,  which  was  rigorously  enforced,  declared  it  to  be  an 
intolerable  usurpation  on  the  part  of  England.  Russia,  Prussia,  Denmark, 
Sweden,  Holland,  France,  and  Spain  united  in  a  great  confederacy  to  resist 
these  demands  of  the  proud  monarch  of  the  seas.  The  genius  of  Napoleon 
formed  this  grand  coalition.  Paul  of  Russia,  now  a  most  enthusiastic  admi- 
rer of  the  First  Consul,  entered  into  it  with  all  his  soul.  England  soon 
found  herself  single-handed  against  the  world  in  arms.  With  sublime  ener- 
gy, the  British  ministry  collected  their  strength  for  the  conflict.  Murmurs, 
however,  and  remonstrances,  loud  and  deep,  pervaded  all  England.  The  op- 
position roused  itself  to  new  vigor.  The  government,  in  the  prosecution  of 
this  war,  had  already  involved  the  nation  in  a  debt  of  millions  upon  millions. 
But  the  pride  of  the  English  government  was  aroused.  "What!  make 
peace  upon  compulsion  !"  England  was  conscious  of  her  maritime  power, 
and  feared  not  the  hostility  of  the  world,  and  the  world  presented  a  wide  fie^d 
from  which  to  collect  remuneration  for  her  losses. 


354  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.  [CHAP.  XXII. 

She  swept  the  ocean  triumphantly.  The  colonies  of  the  Allies  dropped 
into  her  hands  like  fruit  from  the  overladen  bough.  Immediately  upon  the 
formation  of  this  confederacy,  England  issued  an  embargo  upon  every  vessel 
belonging  to  the  allied  powers,  and  also  orders  were  issued  for  the  immediate 
capture  of  any  merchant  vessels  belonging  to  these  powers,  wherever  they 
could  be  found.  The  ocean  instantly  swarmed  with  English  privateersmen. 
Her  navy  was  active  every  where.  There  had  been  no  proclamation  of  war 
issued.  The  merchants  of  Europe  were  entirely  unsuspicious  of  any  such 
calamity.  Their  ships  were  all  exposed.  By  thousands  they  were  swept 
into  the  ports  of  England.  More  than  half  of  the  ships  belonging  to  the 
northern  powers  then  at  sea  were  captured. 

Russia,  Denmark,  and  Sweden  had  a  large  armament  in  the  Baltic.  A 
powerful  English  fleet  was  sent  for  its  destruction.  The  terrible  energies 
of  Nelson,  so  resplendent  at  Aboukir,  were  still  more  resplendent  at  Copen- 
hagen. A  terrific  conflict  ensued.  The  capital  of  Denmark  was  filled  with 
weeping  and  woe,  for  thousands  of  her  noble  sons,  the  young  and  the  joy- 
ous, were  weltering  in  blood.  "  I  have  been,"  said  Nelson,  "  in  above  a 
hundred  engagements,  but  that  of  Copenhagen  was  the  most  terrible  of  them 
all." 

In  the  midst  of  this  terrific  cannonade,  Nelson  was  rapidly  walking  the 
quarter-deck,  which  was  slippery  with  blood  and  covered  with  the  dead,  who 
could  not  be  removed  as  fast  as  they  fell.  A  heavy  shot  struck  the  main- 
mast, scattering  the  splinters  in  every  direction.  He  looked  upon  the  dev- 
astation  around  him,  and,  sternly  smiling,  said,  "This  is  warm  work,  and 
this  day  may  be  the  last  to  any  of  us  in  a  moment.  But  mark  me,  I  would 
not  be  elsewhere  for  thousands."  This  was  heroic,  but  it  was  not  noble. 
It  was  the  love  of  war,  not  the  love  of  humanity.  It  was  the  spirit  of  an 
Indian  chieftain,  not  the  spirit  of  a  Christian  Washington. 

The  commander-in-chief  of  the  squadron,  seeing  the  appalling  carnage, 
hung  out  the  signal  for  discontinuing  the  action.  Nelson  was  for  a  moment 
deeply  agitated,  and  then  exclaimed  to  a  companion,  "  I  have  but  one  eye. 
I  have  a  right  to  be  blind  sometimes."  Then,  putting  the  glass  to  his  blind 
eye,  he  said,  "I  really  don't  see  the  signal.  Keep  mine  for  closer  battle 
still  fl}  ng.  That  is  the  way  I  answer  such  signals.  Nail  mine  to  the 
mast."  The  human  mind  is  so  constituted  that  it  must  admire  heroism. 
That  sentiment  is  implanted  in  every  generous  breast  for  some  good  pur- 
pose. Welmoes,  a  gallant  young  Dane,  but  seventeen  years  of  age,  station- 
ed himself  on  a  small  raft,  carrying  six  guns  with  twenty-four  men,  directly 
under  the  bows  of  Nelson's  ship.  The  unprotected  raft  was  swept  by  an  in- 
cessant storm  of  bullets  from  the  English  marines.  Knee  deep  in  the  dead, 
this  fearless  stripling  continued  to  keep  up  his  fire  to  the  close  of  the  con- 
flict. Next  day,  Nelson  met  him  at  a  repast  at  the  palace.  Admiring  the 
gallantry  of  his  youthful  enemy,  he  embraced  him  with  enthusiasm,  ex- 
claiming to  the  Crown  Prince,  "  He  deserves  to  be  made  an  admiral." 
"  Were  I  to  make  all  my  brave  officers  admirals,"  replied  the  prince,  "  I 
should  have  no  captains  or  lieutenants  in  my  service." 

By  this  battle  the  power  of  the  confederacy  was  broken.  At  the  same 
time,  the  Emperor  Paul  was  assassinated  in  his  palace  by  his  nobles,  and 


1801.]  PEACE  WITH  ENGLAND.  355 

Alexander,  his  son,  ascended  the  throne.  When  Napoleon  heard  of  the  death 
of  Paul,  it  is  said  that  he  gave  utterance,  for  the  first  time  in  his  life,  to  that 
irreverent  expression,  "  Mon  Dieu"  (My  God),  which  is  ever  upon  the  lips  of 
every  Frenchman.  He  regarded  his  death  as  a  great  calamity  to  France 
and  to  the  world.  The  eccentricities  of  the  Emperor  amounted  almost  to 
madness.  But  his  enthusiastic  admiration  for  Napoleon  united  France  and 
Russia  in  a  close  alliance. 

The  nobles  of  Russia  were  much  displeased  with  the  democratic  equality 
which  Napoleon  was  sustaining  in  France.  They  plotted  the  destruction  of 
the  king,  and  raised  Alexander  to  the  throne,  pledged  to  a  different  policy. 
The  young  monarch  immediately  withdrew  from  the  maritime  confederacy, 
and  entered  into  a  treaty  of  peace  with  England.  These  events,  apparently 
so  disastrous  to  the  interests  of  France,  were,  on  the  contrary,  highly  con- 
ducive to  the  termination  of  the  war.  The  English  people,  weary  of  the  in- 
terminable strife,  and  disgusted  with  the  oceans  of  blood  which  had  been 
shed,  more  and  more  clamorously  demanded  peace.  And  England  could 
now  make  peace  without  the  mortification  of  her  pride. 

Napoleon  was  extremely  vigilant  in  sending  succor  to  the  army  in  Egypt. 
He  deemed  it  essential,  in  order  to  promote  the  maritime  greatness  of  France, 
that  Egypt  should  be  retained  as  a  colony.  His  pride  was  also  enlisted  in 
proving  to  the  world  that  he  had  not  transported  forty-six  thousand  soldiers 
to  Egypt  in  vain.  Vessels  of  every  description,  ships  of  war,  merchantmen, 
dispatch-boats,  sailed  almost  daily  from  the  various  ports  of  Holland,  France, 
Spain,  Italy,  and  even  from  the  coast  of  Barbary,  laden  with  provisions,  Eu- 
ropean goods,  wines,  munitions  of  war,  and  each  taking  a  file  of  French 
newspapers.  Many  of  these  vessels  were  captured.  Others,  however,  escaped 
the  vigilance  of  the  cruisers,  and  gave  to  the  colony  most  gratifying  proof  of 
the  interest  which  the  First  Consul  took  in  its  welfare.  While  Napoleon 
was  thus  daily  endeavoring  to  send  partial  relief  to  the  army  in  Egypt,  he 
was,  at  the  same  time,  preparing  a  vast  expedition  to  convey  thither  a  power- 
ful re-enforcement  of  troops  and  materials  of  war. 

Napoleon  assembled  this  squadron  at  Brest,  ostensibly  destined  for  St. 
Domingo.  He  selected  seven  of  the  fastest  sailing  ships,  placed  on  board 
of  them  five  thousand  men,  and  an  ample  supply  of  those  stores  most  needed 
in  Egypt.  He  ordered  that  each  vessel  should  contain  a  complete  assort- 
ment of  every  individual  article  prepared  for  the  colony,  so  that  in  the  event 
of  one  vessel  being  captured,  the  colony  would  not  be  destitute  of  the  pre- 
cise article  which  that  vessel  might  otherwise  have  contained.  He  also  in 
several  other  places,  formed  similar  expeditions,  hoping  thus  to  distract  the 
attention  of  England,  and  compel  her  to  divide  her  forces  to  guard  all  ex- 
posed points.  Taking  advantage  of  this  confusion,  he  was  almost  certain 
that  some  of  the  vessels  would  reach  Egypt.  The  plan  would  have  been 
triumphantly  successful,  as  subsequent  events  proved,  had  the  naval  com- 
manders obeyed  the  instructions  of  Napoleon. 

A  curious  instance  now  occurred  of  what  may  be  called  the  despotism  of 
the  First  Consul.  And  yet  it  is  not  strange  that  the  French  people  should, 
under  the  peculiar  circumstances,  have  respected  and  loved  such  despotism. 
The  following  order  was  issued  to  the  Minister  of  Police  :  "  Citizen  Minis- 


356  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.  [CHAP.  XXIL 

ter, — Have  the  goodness  to  address  a  short  circular  to  the  editors  of  the  four- 
teen journals,  forbidding  the  insertion  of  any  article  calculated  to  afford  the 
enemy  the  slightest  clew  to  the  different  movements  which  are  taking 
place  in  our  squadrons,  unless  the  intelligence  be  derived  from  the  official 
journal."  Napoleon  had  previously,  through  the  regularly  constituted  tri- 
bunals, suppressed  all  the  journals  in  Paris  but  fourteen.  The  world  has 
often  wondered  how  France  so  readily  yielded  to  the  despotism  of  Napoleon. 
It  was  because  the  French  were  convinced  that  dictatorial  power  was  essen- 
tial to  the  successful  prosecution  of  the  war,  and  that  each  act  of  Napoleon 
was  dictated  by  the  most  wise  and  sincere  patriotism.  They  were  willing 
to  sacrifice  the  liberty  of  the  press,  that  they  might  obtain  victory  over  their 
enemies. 

The  condition  of  England  was  now  truly  alarming.  Nearly  all  the  civil, 
ized  world  was  in  arms  against  her.  Her  harvests  had  been  cut  off,  and  a 
frightful  famine  ravaged  the  land.  The  starving  people  were  rising  in  dif- 
ferent parts  of  the  kingdom,  pillaging  the  magnificent  country  seats  of  the 
English  aristocracy,  and  sweeping  in  riotous  mobs  through  the  cities.  The 
masses  in  England  and  in  Ireland,  wretchedly  perishing  of  hunger,  clamored 
loudly  against  Pitt.  They  alleged  that  he  was  the  cause  of  all  their  calami- 
ties— that  he  had  burdened  the  nation  with  an  enormous  debt  and  with  in- 
supportable taxes — that  by  refusing  peace  with  France  he  had  drawn  all  the 
Continental  powers  into  hostility  with  England,  and  thus  had  deprived  the 
people  of  that  food  from  the  Continent  which  was  now  indispensable  for  the 
support  of  life.  The  opposition,  seeing  the  power  of  Pitt  shaken,  redoubled 
their  blows.  Fox,  Tiernay,  Grey,  Sheridan,  and  Holland  renewed  their  at- 
tacks with  all  the  ardor  of  anticipated  success. 

"Why,"  said  they,  "  did  you  not  make  peace  with  France  when  the  First 
Consul  proposed  it  before  the  battle  of  Marengo  ?  Why  did  you  not  con- 
sent to  peace  when  it  was  proposed  after  that  battle  ?  Why  did  you  refuse 
consent  to  separate  negotiation,  when  Napoleon  was  willing  to  enter  into 
such,  without  demanding  the  cessation  of  hostilities  by  sea?"  They  con- 
trasted the  distress  of  England  with  the  prosperity  of  France.  "  France," 
said  they,  "  admirably  governed,  is  at  peace  with  Europe.  In  the  eyes  of 
the  world  she  appears  humane,  wise,  tranquil,  evincing  the  most  exemplary 
moderation  after  all  her  victories."  With  bitter  irony  they  exclaimed,  "  What 
have  you  now  to  say  of  this  young  Bonaparte,  of  this  rash  youth,  who,  ac- 
cording to  the  ministerial  language,  was  only  doomed  to  enjoy  a  brief  exist- 
ence like  his  predecessors,  so  ephemeral  that  it  did  not  entitle  him  to  be 
treated  with  ?" 

Pitt  was  disconcerted  by  the  number  of  his  enemies  and  by  the  clamors 
of  a  famishing  people.  His  proud  spirit  revolted  at  the  idea  of  changing  his 
course.  He  could  only  reiterate  his  argument,  that  if  he  had  not  made  war 
against  revolutionary  France,  England  would  also  have  been  revolutionized. 
There  is  an  aspect  of  moral  sublimity  in  the  firmness  with  which  this  distin- 
guished minister  breasted  a  world  in  arms.  "As  to  the  demand  of  the  neu- 
tral powers,"  said  he,  "we  must  envelop  ourselves  in  our  flag,  and  proudly 
find  our  grave  in  the  deep,  rather  than  admit  the  validity  of  such  principles 
in  the  maritime  code  of  nations." 


1801.]  PEACE  WITH  ENGLAND.  357 

Though  Pitt  still  retained  his  numerical  majority  in  the  Parliament,  the 
masses  of  the  people  were  turning  with  great  power  against  him,  and  he  felt 
that  his  position  was  materially  weakened.  Under  these  circumstances, 
Pitt,  idolized  by  the  aristocracy,  execrated  by  the  democracy,  took  occasion 
to  send  in  his  resignation.  The  impression  seemed  to  be  universal,  that  the 
distinguished  minister,  perceiving  that  peace  must  be  made  with  France, 
temporarily  retired,  that  it  might  be  brought  about  by  others  rather  than  by 
himself.  He  caused  himself,  however,  to  be  succeeded  by  Mr.  Addington,  a 
man  of  no  distinguished  note,  but  entirely  under  his  influence.  The  feeble 
intellect  of  the  King  of  England,  though  he  was  one  of  the  most  worthy  and 
conscientious  of  men,  was  unequal  to  these  political  storms.  A  renewed  at- 
tack of  insanity  incapacitated  him  for  the  functions  of  royalty.  Mr.  Pitt, 
who  had  been  prime  minister  for  seventeen  years,  became,  by  this  event, 
virtually  the  king  of  England,  and  Mr.  Addington  was  his  minister. 

Napoleon  now  announced  to  the  world  his  determination  to  struggle  hand 
to  hand  with  England  until  he  had  compelled  the  government  to  cease  to 
make  war  against  France.  Conscious  of  the  naval  superiority  of  his  foes, 
he  avowed  his  resolve  to  cross  the  Channel  with  a  powerful  army,  march 
directly  upon  London,  and  thus  compel  the  cabinet  of  St.  James  to  make 
peace.  It  was  a  desperate  enterprise  ;  so  desperate  that,  to  the  present  day, 
it  is  doubted  whether  Napoleon  ever  seriously  contemplated  carrying  it  into 
effect.  It  was,  however,  the  only  measure  Napoleon  could  now  adopt.  The 
naval  superiority  of  England  was  so  undeniable,  that  a  maritime  war  was 
hopeless.  Nelson,  in  command  of  the  fleet  of  the  Channel,  would  not  allow 
even  a  fishing-boat  to  creep  out  from  a  French  cove.  Napoleon  was  very 
desirous  of  securing  in  his  favor  the  popular  opinion  of  the  people  of  En- 
gland, and  the  sympathies  of  the  whole  European  public. 

He  prepared  with  his  own  hand  many  articles  for  the  "  Moniteur,"  which 
were  models  of  eloquent  and  urgent  polemics,  and  which  elicited  admiration 
from  readers  in  all  countries.  He  wrote  in  the  most  respectful  and  compli- 
mentary terms  of  the  new  English  ministry,  representing  them  as  intelligent, 
upright,  and  well-intentioned  men.  He  endeavored  to  assure  Europe  of  the 
unambitious  desires  of  France,  and  contrasted  her  readiness  to  relinquish 
the  conquests  which  she  had  made  with  the  eager  grasp  with  which  the  En- 
glish held  their  enormous  acquisitions  in  India  and  in  the  islands  of  the  sea. 
With  the  utmost  delicacy,  to  avoid  offending  the  pride  of  Britain,  he  affirm- 
ed that  a  descent  upon  England  would  be  his  last  resource  ;  that  he  fully  ap- 
preciated the  bravery  and  the  power  of  the  English,  and  the  desperate  risks 
which  he  should  encounter  in  such  an  undertaking  ;  but  he  declared  that 
there  was  no  other  alternative  left  to  him,  and  that,  if  the  English  ministers 
were  resolved  that  the  war  should  not  be  brought  to  a  close  but  by  the  de- 
struction of  one  of  the  two  nations,  there  was  not  a  Frenchman  who  would 
not  make  the  most  desperate  efforts  to  terminate  this  cruel  quarrel  to  the 
glory  of  France. 

"  But  why,"  exclaimed  he,  in  words  singularly  glowing  and  beautiful,  but 
of  melancholy  import,  "  why  place  the  question  on  this  last  resort  ?  Where- 
fore not  put  an  end  to  the  sufferings  of  humanity  ?  Wherefore  risk  in  this 
manner  the  lot  of  two  great  nations  ?  Happy  are  nations  when,  having  ar- 


358  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.  [CHAP.  XXII. 

rived  at  high  prosperity,  they  have  wise  governments,  which  care  not  to  ex- 
pose advantages  so  vast  to  the  caprices  and  vicissitudes  of  a  single  stroke 
of  fortune." 

These  most  impressive  papers,  from  the  pen  of  the  First  Consul,  remark- 
able  for  their  vigorous  logic  and  impassioned  eloquence,  produced  a  deep 
impression  upon  all  minds.  This  conciliatory  language  was  accompanied  by 
the  most  serious  demonstrations  of  force  upon  the  shores  of  the  Channel. 
One  hundred  thousand  men  were  upon  the  coasts  of  France,  in  the  vicinity 
of  Boulogne,  preparing  for  the  threatened  invasion.  Boats  without  number 
were  collected  to  transport  the  troops  across  the  narrow  channel.  It  was 
asserted  that,  by  taking  advantage  of  a  propitious  moment  immediately  after 
a  storm  had  scattered  the  English  fleet,  France  could  concentrate  such  a 
force  as  to  obtain  a  temporary  command  of  the  Channel,  and  the  strait  could 
be  crossed  by  the  invaders.  England  was  aroused  thoroughly,  but  not 
alarmed.  The  militia  was  disciplined,  the  whole  island  converted  into  a 
camp.  Wagons  were  constructed  for  the  transportation  of  troops  to  any 
threatened  point.  It  is  important  that  the  reader  should  distinguish  this  first 
threat  of  invasion  in  1801  from  that  far  more  powerful  naval  and  military 
organization  executed  for  the  same  purpose  in  1804,  and  known  under  the 
name  of  the  Camp  of  Boulogne. 

Not  a  little  uneasiness  was  felt  in  England  respecting  the  temporary  suc- 
cess of  the  great  conqueror.  Famine  raged  throughout  the  island.  Business 
was  at  a  stand.  The  taxes  were  enormous.  Ireland  was  on  the  eve  of  re- 
volt. The  mass  of  the  English  people  admired  the  character  of  Napoleon  ; 
and,  notwithstanding  all  the  efforts  of  the  government,  regarded  him  as  the 
foe  of  aristocracy  and  the  friend  of  popular  rights.  Nelson,  with  an  invinci- 
ble armament,  was  triumphantly  sweeping  the  Channel,  and  a  French  gun- 
boat could  not  creep  round  a  headland  without  encountering  the  vigilance 
of  the  energetic  hero.  Napoleon,  in  escaping  from  Egypt,  had  caught  Nel- 
son napping  in  a  lady's  lap.  The  greatest  admirers  of  the  naval  hero  could 
not  but  smile,  half-pleased  that,  under  the  guilty  circumstances,  he  had  met 
with  the  misadventure.  He  was  anxious,  by  a  stroke  of  romantic  heroism, 
to  obliterate  this  impression  from  the  public  mind.  The  vast  flotilla  of 
France,  most  thoroughly  manned  and  armed  under  the  eye  of  Napoleon,  was 
anchored  at  Boulogne,  in  three  divisions,  in  a  line  parallel  to  the  shore. 
Just  before  the  break  of  day  on  the  4th  of  August,  the  fleet  of  Nelson,  in 
magnificent  array,  approached  the  French  flotilla,  and  for  sixteen  hours  rain- 
ed down  upon  it  a  tornado  of  balls  and  shells.  The  gun-boats  were,  how- 
ever, chained  to  one  another  and  to  the  shore.  He  did  not  succeed  in  tak- 
ing a  single  boat,  and  retired  mortified  at  his  discomfiture,  and  threatening 
to  return  in  a  few  days  to  take  revenge.  The  French  were  exceedingly 
elated  that  in  a  naval  conflict  they  had  avoided  defeat.  As  they  stood  there 
merely  upon  self-defense,  victory  was  out  of  the  question. 

The  reappearance  of  Nelson  was  consequently  daily  expected,  and  the 
French,  emboldened  by  success,  prepared  to  give  him  a  warm  reception. 
Twelve  clays  after,  on  the  16th  of  August,  Nelson  again  appeared  with  a 
vastly  increased  force.  In  the  darkness  of  the  night,  he  filled  his  boats  with 
picked  men,  to  undertake  one  of  the  most  desperate  enterprises  on  record 


1801.]  PEACE  WITH  ENGLAND.  359 

In  four  divisions,  with  muffled  oars,  this  forlorn  hope,  in  the  silence  of  mid- 
night, approached  the  French  flotilla.  The  butchery,  with  swords,  hatchets, 
bayonets,  bullets,  and  hand  grenades,  was  hideous.  Both  parties  fought  with 
perfect  fury.  No  man  seemed  to  have  the  slightest  regard  for  limb  or  life. 
England  was  fighting  for  she  knew  not  what.  The  French  were  contend, 
ing  in  self-defense.  For  four  long  hours  of  midnight  gloom  the  slaughter 
continued.  Thousands  perished.  Just  as  the  day  was  dawning  upon  the 
horrid  scene,  the  English  retired,  repulsed  at  every  point,  and  confessing  to 
a  defeat.  The  result  of  these  conflicts  diminished  the  confidence  of  the 
English  in  Nelson's  ability  to  destroy  the  preparations  of  Napoleon,  and  in- 
creased their  apprehension  that  the  French  might  be  enabled,  by  some 
chance,  to  carry  the  war  of  invasion  to  their  own  firesides. 

"I  was  resolved,"  said  Napoleon  afterward,  "to  renew  at  Cherbourg  the 
wonders  of  Egypt.  I  had  already  raised  in  the  sea  my  pyramid.  I  would 
also  have  had  my  Lake  Mareotis.  My  great  object  was  to  concentrate  all 
our  maritime  forces,  and  in  time  they  would  have  been  immense,  in  order  to 
be  able  to  deal  out  a  grand  stroke  at  the  enemy.  I  was  establishing  my 
ground  so  as  to  bring  the  two  nations,  as  it  were,  body  to  body.  The  ulti- 
mate issue  could  not  be  doubtful,  for  we  had  forty  millions  of  French 
against  fifteen  millions  of  English.  I  would  have  terminated  the  strife  by  a 
battle  of  Actium." 

One  after  another  of  the  obstacles  in  the  way  of  peace  now  gradually  gave 
way.  Overtures  were  made  to  Napoleon.  He  accepted  the  advances  of 
England  with  the  greatest  eagerness  and  cordiality.  "  Peace,"  said  he,  "  is 
easily  brought  about,  if  England  desires  it." 

"  Pitt,"  says  Mr.  Ingersoll,  "  was  at  war  with  republicanism  when  the 
consular  republican  government  of  France  had  staunched  all  the  wounds  of 
that  country,  restored  the  finances,  organized  public  instruction,  recalled 
nearly  all  the  Royalists,  reinstated  religion,  begun  vast  plans  for  territorial 
improvements,  and  for  ameliorating  the  laws  by  a  new  civil  code.  In  every 
thing,  except  foreign  commerce  and  manufactures,  the  French  Republic  was 
then  more  flourishing,  progressive,  and  content  than  the  kingdom  of  Great 
Britain.  It  was  hard,  if  not  impossible,  where  the  press  and  all  public  dis- 
cussion is  so  free  and  manly  as  in  England,  for  any  ministry  to  make  head 
against  such  undeniable  reasons  for  peace  with  a  rival  nation." 

On  the  evening  of  the  21st  of  October  the  preliminaries  were  signed  in 
London.  That  very  night  a  courier  left  England  to  convey  the  joyful  intel- 
ligence to  France.  He  arrived  at  Malmaison,  the  rural  retreat  of  Napoleon, 
at  four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  of  the  next  day.  At  that  moment  the  three 
consuls  were  holding  a  government  council.  The  excitement  of  joy  in 
opening  the  dispatches  was  intense.  The  consuls  ceased  from  their  labors, 
and  threw  themselves  into  each  other's  arms  in  cordial  embraces. 

Napoleon,  laying  aside  all  reserve,  gave  full  utterance  to  the  intense  joy 
which  filled  his  bosom.  It  wras  for  him  a  proud  accomplishment.  In  two 
years,  by  his  genius  and  his  indefatigable  exertions,  he  had  restored  internal 
order  to  France  and  peace  to  the  world.  Still,  even  in  this  moment  of  tri- 
umph, his  entire,  never  wavering  devotion  to  the  welfare  of  France,  like  a 
ruling  passion  strong  even  in  death,  rose  above  his  exultation, 


360  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.  [CHAP.  XXII. 

"Now  that  we  have  made  a  treaty  of  peace  with  England,"  said  Camba- 
ceres,  "  we  must  make  a  treaty  of  commerce,  and  remove  all  subjects  of  dis- 
pute between  the  two  countries." 

Napoleon  promptly  replied,  "  Not  so  fast !  The  political  peace  is  made. 
So  much  the  better.  Let  us  enjoy  it.  As  to  a  commercial  peace,  we  will 
make  one,  if  we  can.  But  at  no  price  will  I  sacrifice  French  industry.  I 
remember  the  misery  of  1786." 

The  news  had  been  kept  secret  in  London  for  twenty-four  hours,  that  the 
joyful  intelligence  might  be  communicated  in  both  capitals  at  the  same  time. 
The  popular  enthusiasm  both  in  England  and  France  bordered  almost  upon 
delirium.  It  was  the  repose  of  the  Continent.  It  was  general,  universal 
peace.  It  was  opening  the  world  to  the  commerce  of  all  nations.  War 
spreads  over  continents  the  gloom  of  the  world  of  woe,  while  peace  il- 
lumines them  with  the  radiance  of  Heaven.  Illuminations  blazed  every 
where.  Men,  the  most  phlegmatic,  met  and  embraced  each  other  with  tears. 
The  people  of  England  surrendered  themselves  to  the  extraordinary  trans- 
ports. They  loved  the  French.  They  adored  the  hero,  the  sage,  the  great 
pacificator  who  governed  France.  The  streets  of  London  resounded  with 
shouts,  "  Long  live  Bonaparte  !"  Every  stage-coach  which  ran  from  Lon- 
don bore  triumphant  banners,  upon  which  were  inscribed,  Peace  with  France. 

The  populace  of  London  rushed  to  the  house  of  the  French  negotiator. 
He  had  just  entered  his  carriage  to  visit  Lord  Hawkesbury,  to  exchange 
ratifications.  The  tumultuous  throng  of  happy  men  unharnessed  his  horses 
and  dragged  him  in  triumph,  in  the  delirium  of  their  joy  rending  the  skies 
with  their  shouts.  The  crowd  and  the  rapturous  confusion  at  last  became 
so  great,  that  Lord  Vincent,  fearing  some  accident,  placed  himself  at  the  head 
of  the  amiable  mob,  as  it  triumphantly  escorted  and  conveyed  the  carriage 
from  minister  to  minister. 

A  curious  circumstance  occurred  at  the  festival  in  London,  highly  charac- 
teristic of  the  honest  bluntness,  resolution,  and  good  nature  of  the  English 
seamen.  The  house  of  M.  Otto,  the  French  minister,  was  brilliantly  illumi- 
nated. Attracted  by  its  surpassing  splendor,  a  vast  crowd  of  sailors  had 
gathered  around.  The  word  concord  blazed  forth  most  brilliantly  in  letters 
of  light.  The  sailors,  not  very  familiar  with  the  spelling-book,  exclaimed, 
"  Conquered  !  not  so,  by  a  great  deal.  That  will  not  do."  Excitement  and 
dissatisfaction  rapidly  spread.  Violence  was  threatened.-  M.  Otto  came 
forward  himself  most  blandly,  but  his  attempts  at  explanation  were  utterly 
fruitless.  The  offensive  word  was  removed,  and  amity  substituted.  The 
sailors,  fully  satisfied  with  the  amende  honorable,  gave  three  cheers  and  went 
on  their  way  rejoicing. 

In  France  the  exultation  was,  if  possible,  still  greater  than  in  England. 
The  admiration  of  Napoleon,  and  the  confidence  in  his  wisdom  and  patriot- 
ism were  unbounded.  No  power  was  withheld  from  the  First  Consul  which 
he  was  willing  to  assume.  The  nation  placed  itself  at  his  feet.  All  over 
the  Continent  Napoleon  received  the  honorable  title  of  "The  Hero  Pacifica- 
tor of  Europe ."  And  yet  there  was  a  strong  under-current  to  this  joy.  Na- 
poleon was  the  favorite,  not  of  the  nobles,  but  of  the  people.  Even  his  acts 
of  despotic  authority  were  most  cordially  sustained  by  the  people  of  France, 


1801.]  PEACE  WITH  ENGLAND.  301 

for  they  believed  that  such  acts  were  essential  for  the  promotion  of  their 
welfare.  "  The  ancient  privileged  classes  and  the  foreign  cabinets,"  said 
Napoleon,  "  hate  me  worse  than  they  did  Robespierre."  The  hosannas  with 
which  the  name  of  Bonaparte  was  resounding  through  the  cities  and  the  vil- 
lages of  England  fell  gloomily  upon  the  ears  of  Mr.  Pitt  and  his  friends. 
The  freedom  of  the  seas  was  opening  to  the  energetic  genius  of  Napoleon 
an  unobstructed  field  for  the  maritime  aggrandizement  of  France.  The 
British  minister  knew  that  the  sleepless  energies  of  Napoleon  would,  as  with 
a  magician's  wand,  call  fleets  into  existence  to  explore  all  seas.  Sorrowfully 
he  contemplated  a  peace  to  which  the  popular  voice  had  compelled  him  to 
yield,  and  which,  in  his  judgment,  boded  no  good  to  the  naval  superiority  of 
England. 

It  was  agreed  that  the  plenipotentiaries,  to  settle  the  treaty  definitively, 
should  meet  at  Amiens,  an  intermediate  point  midway  between  London  and 
Paris.  The  English  appointed  as  their  minister  Lord  Cornwallis.  The 
Americans,  remembering  this  distinguished  general  at  Brandywine,  Camden, 
and  at  the  surrender  of  Yorktown,  have  been  in  the  habit  of  regarding  him 
as  an  enemy.  But  he  was  a  gallant  soldier,  and  one  jf  the  most  humane, 
high-minded,  and  estimable  of  men.  Frankly  he  avowed  his  conviction  that 
the  time  had  arrived  for  terminating  the  miseries  of  the  world  by  peace.  Na- 
poleon has  paid  a  noble  tribute  to  the  integrity,  urbanity,  sagacity,  and  un- 
blemished honor  of  Lord  Cornwallis.  Joseph  Bonaparte  was  appointed  by 
the  First  Consul  embassador  on  the  part  of  France.  The  suavity  of  his 
manners,  the  gentleness  of  his  disposition,  his  enlightened  and  liberal  polit- 
ical views,  and  the  Christian  morality  which,  in  those  days  of  general  cor- 
ruption, embellished  his  conduct,  peculiarly  adapted  him  to  fulfill  the  duties 
of  a  peace-maker. 

Among  the  terms  of  the  treaty,  it  was  agreed  that  France  should  abandon 
her  colony  in  Egypt,  as  endangering  the  English  possessions  in  India.  In 
fact,  the  French  soldiers  had  already,  by  capitulation,  agreed  to  leave  Egypt, 
but  the  tidings  of  surrender  had  not  then  reached  England  or  France.  The 
most  important  question  in  these  deliberations  was  the  possession  of  the 
island  of  Malta.  The  power  in  possession  of  that  impregnable  fortress 
would  have  command  of  the  Mediterranean.  Napoleon  insisted  upon  it,  as 
a  point  important  above  all  others,  that  England  should  not  retain  Malta. 
As  England  was  already  in  possession  of  Gibraltar,  the  reasonableness  of 
this  requisition  was  beyond  all  dispute.  Napoleon  might  very  fairly  have 
demanded  Malta  for  France,  as  a  balance  for  Gibraltar.  But  his  desire  for 
peace  was  so  strong,  and  his  moderation  so  singular,  that  he  was  willing  to 
leave  England  in  possession  of  Gibraltar,  and  yet  relinquish  all  claim  upon 
Malta  for  France.  But  all-grasping  England  demanded  both.  Here  Napo- 
leon was  firm.  He  insisted  that  Malta  should  be  placed  in  the  hands  of 
some  neutral  power ;  but  he  declared  his  unalterable  determination  that  he 
could,  by  no  possibility,  consent  that  it  should  remain  in  the  hands  of  En- 
gland. 

At  last  England  yielded,  and  agreed  to  evacuate  Malta,  and  that  it  should 
be  surrendered  to  the  Knights  of  St.  John.  In  reference  to  this  all-important 
surrender,  the  terms  were  very  explicit.  It  was  stated  that  the  forces  of  his 


362  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.  [CHAP.  XXII. 

Britannic  majesty  shall  evacuate  the  island  and  its  dependencies  within  three 
months  after  the  exchange  of  the  ratifications.  By  these  honorable  and  per- 
severing efforts,  Napoleon  had  at  last  succeeded  in  granting  repose  to  blood- 
deluged  Europe.* 

"  Peace  having  been  concluded,"  says  Bourrienne,  "  on  terms  which  were 
highly  honorable  to  the  national  character,  all  parties  hoped  that  the  san- 
guinary wars  in  which  the  country  had  been  engaged  would  now  have  term- 
inated, and  that  France  would  be  left  at  liberty  to  adopt  those  institutions 
which  would  be  agreeable  to  herself.  But  the  brilliant  position  in  which  the 
peace  of  Amiens  had  left  France  seemed  to  excite  the  jealousy  of  her  neigh- 
bors, and  to  produce  those  feelings  which  are  opposed  to  the  repose  of  na- 
tions. In  fact,  we  shall  see  that  war  broke  out  afresh  with  unusual  ani- 
mosity, and  that  from  very  trifling  causes.  At  this  period  the  consular 
glory  was  unsullied,  and  held  in  prospect  the  most  flattering  hopes ;  and  it 
can  not  be  doubted  but  that  the  First  Consul  was  really  desirous  to  promote 
peace  and  to  give  repose  to  France." 

At  St.  Helena  Napoleon  remarked  to  Las  Casas,  "  Lord  Cornwallis  is  the 
first  Englishman  who  gave  me,  in  good  earnest,  a  favorable  opinion  of  his 
nation ;  after  him  Fox,  and  I  might  add  to  these,  if  it  were  necessary,  our 
present  admiral,  Malcolm.  Cornwallis  was,  in  every  sense  of  the  word,  a 
worthy,  good,  and  honest  man.  At  the  time  of  the  treaty  of  Amiens,  the 
terms  having  been  agreed  upon,  he  had  promised  to  sign  the  next  day  at  a 
certain  hour.  Something  of  consequence  detained  him  at  home,  but  he  had 
pledged  his  word.  The  evening  of  that  same  day  a  courier  arrived  from 
London  proscribing  certain  articles  of  the  treaty,  but  he  answered  that  he 
had  signed,  and  immediately  came  and  actually  signed.  We  understood  each 
other  perfectly  well.  I  had  placed  a  regiment  at  his  disposal,  and  he  took 
pleasure  in  seeing  its  maneuvers.  I  have  preserved  an  agreeable  recollec- 
tion of  him  in  every  respect ;  and  it  is  certain  that  a  request  from  him  would 
have  had  more  weight  with  me,  perhaps,  than  one  from  a  crowned  head. 
His  family  appears  to  have  guessed  this  to  be  the  case.  Some  requests  have 
been  made  to  me  in  its  name,  which  have  all  been  granted. 

"  Fox  came  to  France  immediately  after  the  peace  of  Amiens.  He  was 
employed  in  writing  a  history  of  the  Stuarts,  and  asked  my  permission  to 
search  our  diplomatical  archives.  I  gave  orders  that  every  thing  should  be 
placed  at  his  disposal.  I  received  him  often.  Fame  had  informed  me  of 
his  talents,  and  I  soon  found  that  he  possessed  a  noble  character,  a  good 
heart,  liberal,  generous,  and  enlightened  views.  I  considered  him  an  orna- 
ment to  mankind,  and  was  very  much  attached  to  him.  Half  a  dozen  such 
men  as  Fox  and  Cornwallis  would  be  sufficient  to  establish  the  moral  char- 
acter of  a  nation.  With  such  men  I  should  always  have  agreed.  We  should 
soon  have  settled  our  differences,  and  not  only  France  would  have  been  at 
peace  with  a  nation  at  bottom  most  worthy  of  esteem,  but  we  should  have 
done  great  things  together." 

*  Napoleon  was  highly  gratified  by  the  honorable  course  pursued  by  Lord  Cornwallis  in  these 
negotiations. 


1801.}  NATIONAL  REFORMS.  353 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

NATIONAL     REFORMS. 

General  Exultation — Lord  Cornwallis — Mr.  Fox — Deputies  from  Switzerland — Intellectual  Su- 
premacy of  Napoleon — Address  to  the  Swiss  Deputies — The  English  in  Paris — Dissatisfaction 
of  the  English  Aristocracy — Joy  of  the  People — Napoleon's  Defense  of  Christianity — Testimony 
of  the  Encyclopaedia  Americana  and  of  Mr.  Fox— The  Tones  of  the  Church  Bell — The  New 
Pope — Religious  Library  of  Napoleon — Re-establishment  of  Christianity — Noble  Proclamation — 
Religious  Fete — Triumphal  Monument  proposed — Testimony  of  Lady  Morgan — Moral  Reforms 
— Testimony  of  Ingersoll. 

THIS  pacification,  so  renowned  in  history  both  for  its  establishment  and 
for  its  sudden  and  disastrous  rupture,  has  ever  been  known  by  the  name  of 
the  Peace  of  Amiens.  Napoleon  determined  to  celebrate  the  joyful  event 
by  a  magnificent  festival.  The  10th  of  November,  1801,  was  the  appointed 
day.  It  was  the  anniversary  of  Napoleon's  attainment  of  the  consular  pow- 
er. Friendly  relations  having  been  thus  restored  between  the  two  countries 
after  so  many  years  of  hostility  and  carnage,  thousands  of  the  English  flocked 
across  the  Channel  and  thronged  the  pavements  of  Paris.  All  were  impa- 
tient to  see  France  thus  suddenly  emerging  from  such  gloom  into  such  un- 
paralleled brilliancy,  and  especially  to  see  the  man  who,  at  that  moment, 
was  the  admiration  of  England  and  of  the  world. 

The  joy  which  pervaded  all  classes  invested  this  festival  with  sublimity. 
With  a  delicacy  of  courtesy  characteristic  of  the  First  Consul,  no  carriages 
but  those  of  Lord  Cornwallis  were  allowed  in  the  streets  on  that  day.  The 
crowd  of  Parisians,  with  most  cordial  and  tumultuous  acclamations,  opened 
before  the  representative  of  the  armies  of  England.  The  illustrious  Fox  was 
one  of  the  visitors  on  this  occasion.  He  was  received  by  Napoleon  with  the 
utmost  consideration  and  with  the  most  delicate  attentions.  In  passing 
through  the  gallery  of  sculpture,  his  lady  pointed  his  attention  to  his  own 
statue,  filling  a  niche  by  the  side  of  Washington  and  Brutus.  Every  one  who 
came  into  direct  personal  contact  with  the  First  Consul  at  this  time  was 
charmed  with  his  character. 

Nine  deputies  from  Switzerland,  the  most  able  men  the  republic  could 
furnish,  were  appointed  to  meet  Napoleon  respecting  the  political  arrange- 
ments of  the  Swiss  cantons.  Punctual  to  the  hour,  the  First  Consul  entered 
a  neat,  spacious  room,  where  there  was  a  long  table  covered  with  green 
baize.  Dr.  Jones,  of  Bristol,  the  intimate  friend  of  several  of  these  depu- 
ties, and  who  was  with  them  in  Paris  at  the  time,  thus  describes  the  inter- 
view : 

"  The  First  Consul  entered,  followed  by  two  of  his  ministers,  and  after  the 
necessary  salutation,  sat  down  at  the  head  of  the  table,  his  ministers  on  each 
side  of  him.  The  deputies  then  took  their  seats.  He  spread  out  before  them 
a  large  map,  as  necessary  to  the  subject  of  their  deliberations.  He  then  re- 
quested that  they  would  state  freely  any  objection  which  might  occur  to  them 


364  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.  [CHAP.  XXIII 

in  the  plan  which  he  should  propose.  They  availed  themselves  of  the  liberty, 
and  suggested  several  alterations  which  they  deemed  advantageous  to  France 
and  Switzerland.  But  from  the  prompt,  clear,  and  unanswerable  reasons 
which  Napoleon  gave  in  reply  to  all  their  objections,  he  completely  convinced 
them  of  the  wisdom  of  his  plans.  After  an  animated  discussion  of  ten  hours, 
they  candidly  admitted  that  he  was  better  acquainted  with  the  local  circum- 
stances of  the  Swiss  cantons,  and  with  what  would  secure  their  welfare,  than 
they  were  themselves.  During  the  whole  discussion  his  ministers  did  not 
speak  one  word.  The  deputies  afterward  declared  that  it  was  their  decided 
opinion  that  Napoleon  was  the  most  extraordinary  man  whom  they  had  met 
in  modern  times,  or  of  whom  they  had  read  in  ancient  history." 

M.  Constant  and  M.  Sismondi,  who  both  knew  Napoleon  well,  have  re- 
marked :  "  The  quickness  of  his  conception,  the  depth  of  his  remarks,  the 
facility  and  propriety  of  his  eloquence,  and,  above  all,  the  candor  of  his  re- 
plies and  his  patient  silence,  were  more  remarkable  and  attractive  than  we 
ever  met  with  in  any  other  individual." 

"What  your  interests  require,"  said  Napoleon  at  this  time,  "is,  1.  Equal- 
ity of  rights  among  the  whole  eighteen  cantons.  2.  A  sincere  and  volunta- 
ry renunciation  of  all  exclusive  privileges  on  the  part  of  patrician  families. 
3.  A  federative  organization,  where  every  canton  may  find  itself  arranged 
according  to  its  language,  its  religion,  its  manners,  and  its  interests.  The 
central  government  remains  to  be  provided  for,  but  it  is  of  much  less  con- 
sequence than  the  central  organization.  Situated  on  the  summit  of  the 
mountains  which  separate  France,  Italy,  and  Germany,  you  participate  in 
the  disposition  of  all  these  countries.  You  have  never  maintained  regular 
armies,  nor  had  established  accredited  agents  at  the  courts  of  the  different 
governments.  Strict  neutrality,  a  prosperous  commerce,  and  family  admin- 
istration can  alone  secure  your  interests  or  be  suited  to  your  wishes.  Every 
organization  which  could  be  established  among  you,  hostile  to  the  interests 
of  France,  would  injure  you  in  the  most  essential  particulars." 

This  was  commending  to  them  a  federative  organization  similar  to  that  of 
the  United  States,  and  cautioning  them  against  the  evil  of  a  centralization  of 
power.  No  impartial  man  can  deny  that  the  most  profound  wisdom  marked 
the  principles  which  Napoleon  suggested  to  terminate  the  divisions  with 
which  the  cantons  of  Switzerland  had  long  been  agitated.  "  These  lenient 
conditions,"  says  Alison,  "  gave  universal  satisfaction  in  Switzerland."  The 
following  extract  from  the  noble  speech  which  Napoleon  pronounced  on  the 
formation  of  the  constitution  of  the  confederacy  will  be  read  by  many  with 
surprise,  by  all  with  interest. 

"  The  re-establishment  of  the  ancient  order  of  things  in  the  democratic 
cantons  is  the  best  course  which  can  be  adopted,  both  for  you  and  me.  They 
are  the  states  whose  peculiar  form  of  government  render  them  so  interesting 
in  the  eyes  of  all  Europe.  But  for  this  pure  democracy  you  would  exhibit 
nothing  which  is  not  to  be  found  elsewhere.  Beware  of  extinguishing  so  re- 
markable a  distinction.  I  know  well  that  this  democratic  system  of  admin- 
istration has  many  inconveniences,  but  it  is  established ;  it  has  existed  for 
centuries.  It  springs  from  the  circumstances,  situation,  and  primitive  habits 
of  the  people,  from  the  genius  of  the  place,  and  can  not  with  safety  be  aban- 


1801.]  NATIONAL  REFORMS.  365 

doned.  You  must  never  take  away  from  a  democratic  society  the  practical 
exercise  of  its  privileges.  To  give  such  exercise  a  direction  consistent  with 
the  tranquillity  of  the  state  is  the  part  of  true  political  wisdom.  In  ancient 
Rome  the  votes  were  counted  by  classes,  and  they  threw  into  the  last  class 
the  whole  body  of  indigent  citizens,  while  the  first  contained  only  a  few  hund- 
red of  the  most  opulent.  But  the  populace  were  content,  and,  amused  with 
the  solicitation  of  their  votes,  did  not  perceive  the  immense  difference  in  their 
relative  value." 

The  moral  influence  which  France  thus  obtained  in  Switzerland  was  re- 
garded with  extreme  jealousy  by  all  the  rival  powers.  "  His  conduct  and 
language,"  says  Alison,  "  on  this  occasion  were  distinguished  by  his  usual 
penetration  and  ability,  and  a  most  unusual  degree  of  lenity  and  forbearance. 
And  if  any  thing  could  have  reconciled  the  Swiss  to  the  loss  of  their  inde- 
pendence, it  must  have  been  the  wisdom  and  equity  on  which  his  mediation 
was  founded." 

The  English  who  visited  Paris  were  astonished  at  the  indications  of  pros' 
perity  which  the  metropolis  exhibited.  They  found  France  in  a  very  differ- 
ent condition  from  the  hideous  picture  which  had  been  described  by  the  Lon- 
don journals.  But  there  were  two  parties  in  England.  Pitt  and  his  friends 
submitted  with  extreme  reluctance  to  a  peace  which  they  could  not  avoid. 
The  English  people,  however,  were  overjoyed  at  the  cessation  of  the  horri- 
ble war.  "  But  while,"  says  Alison,  "these  were  the  natural  feelings  of  the 
inconsiderate  populace,  who  are  ever  governed  by  present  impressions,  and 
who  were  for  the  most  part  destitute  of  the  information  requisite  to  form  a 
rational  opinion  on  the  subject,  there  were  many  men,  gifted  with  greater 
sagacity  and  foresight,  who  deeply  lamented  the  conditions  by  which  peace 
had  been  purchased,  and  from  the  very  first  prophesied  that  it  could  be  of  no 
long  endurance.  They  observed  that  the  war  had  been  abruptly  terminated 
without  any  one  object  being  gained  for  which  it  was  undertaken  ;  that  it  was 
entered  into  in  order  to  curb  the  ambition  and  to  stop  the  democratic  propa- 
gandism  of  France." 

These  "  many  men  gifted  with  greater  sagacity,"  with  William  Pitt  at 
their  head,  now  employed  themselves  with  sleepless  vigilance  and  with  fatal 
success  to  bring  to  a  rupture  a  peace  which  they  deemed  so  untoward.  Sir 
Walter  Scott  discloses  the  feelings  with  which  this  party  were  actuated  in 
the  observations,  "  It  seems  more  than  probable  that  the  extreme  rejoicing 
of  the  rabble  of  London  at  signing  the  preliminaries,  their  dragging  about  the 
carriage  of  Lauriston,  and  shouting  '  Bonaparte  forever,' had  misled  the  ruler 
of  France  into  an  opinion  that  peace  was  indispensably  necessary  to  England. 
He  may  easily  enough  have  mistaken  the  cries  of  a  London  mob  for  the  voice 
of  the  British  people."* 

*  "  It  is  generally,  perhaps  universally,  stated  that  England  saw  an  infraction  of  the  treaty  of 
Amiens  in  the  incorporation  of  Piedmont,  the  island  of  Elba,  and  the  states  of  Parma  with  the 
French  empire,  and  in  the  armed  mediation  in  the  affairs  of  Switzerland  ;  and  these  circumstances 
are  alleged  as  strong  instances  to  prove  that  Napoleon  did  not,  in  spite  of  his  protestations,  wish 
for  peace,  because  he  committed  acts  that  would  inevitably  lead  to  war,  and  which  England  could 
not  allow  ;  but  we  have  it  from  the  chief  of  the  French  delegation  for  the  conclusion  of  the  peace 
of  Amiens,  that  he  informed  Lord  Cornwallis  on  several  occasions  of  the  changes  which  would  take 
place  in  France  in  the  relations  of  France  and  Italy.  The  English  government  were,  therefore, 

VOL.  II.— E 


366  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.  [CHAP.  XXIII. 

In  the  midst  of  all  these  cares,  Napoleon  was  making  strenuous  efforts  to 
restore  religion  to  France.  It  required  great  moral  courage  to  prosecute 
such  a  movement.  Nearly  all  the  generals  in  his  armies  were  rank  infidels, 
regarding  every  form  of  religion  with  contempt.  The  religious  element,  by 
nature,  predominated  in  the  bosom  of  Napoleon.  He  was  constitutionally 
serious,  thoughtful,  pensive.  A  profound  melancholy  ever  overshadowed  his 
reflective  spirit.  His  inquisitive  mind  pondered  the  mysteries  of  the  past  and 
the  uncertainties  of  the  future.  Educated  in  a  wild  country,  where  the  peas- 
antry were  imbued  with  religious  feelings,  and  having  been  trained  by  a 
pious  mother,  whose  venerable  character  he  never  ceased  to  adore,  the  sight 
of  the  hallowed  rites  of  religion  revived  in  his  sensitive  and  exalted  imagina- 
tion the  deepest  impressions  of  his  childhood. 

He  had  carefully  studied,  on  his  return  from  Egypt,  the  New  Testament, 
and  appreciated  and  profoundly  admired  its  beautiful  morality.  He  often 
conversed  with  Monge,  Lagrange,  Laplace,  sages  whom  he  honored  and 
loved,  and  he  frequently  embarrassed  them  in  their  incredulity  by  the  logical 
clearness  of  his  arguments.  The  witticisms  of  Voltaire,  and  the  corruptions 
of  unbridled  sin,  had  rendered  the  purity  of  the  Gospel  unpalatable  to  France. 
Talleyrand,  annoyed  by  the  remembrance  of  his  own  apostasy,  bitterly  op- 
posed what  he  called  "  the  religious  peace."  Nearly  all  the  supporters  and 
friends  of  the  First  Consul  condemned  every  effort  to  bring  back  that  which 
they  denominated  the  reign  of  superstition.  Napoleon  honestly  believed  that 
the  interests  of  France  demanded  that  God  should  be  recognized  and  Chris- 
tianity respected  by  the  French  nation. 

"  Hear  me,"  said  Napoleon  one  day  earnestly  to  Monge.  "  I  do  not 
maintain  these  opinions  through  the  positiveness  of  a  devotee,  but  from  rea- 
son. My  religion  is  very  simple.  I  look  at  this  universe,  so  vast,  so  com- 
plex, so  magnificent,  and  I  say  to  myself  that  it  can  not  be  the  result  of 
chance,  but  the  work,  however  intended,  of  an  unknown,  omnipotent  being, 
as  superior  to  man  as  the  universe  is  superior  to  the  finest  machines  of  hu- 
man invention.  Search  the  philosophers,  and  you  will  not  find  a  more  deci- 
sive argument,  and  you  can  not  weaken  it.  But  this  truth  is  too  succinct 
for  man.  He  wishes  to  know,  respecting  himself  and  respecting  his  future 
destiny,  a  crowd  of  secrets  which  the  universe  does  not  disclose.  Allow  re- 
ligion to  inform  him  of  that  which  he  feels  the  need  of  knowing,  and  respect 
her  disclosures." 

One  day,  when  this  matter  was  under  earnest  discussion  in  the  Council  of 
State,  Napoleon  said,  "  Last  evening  I  was  walking  alone  in  the  woods,  amid 
the  solitude  of  nature.  The  tones  of  a  distant  church  bell  fell  upon  my  ear. 

instructed  of  these  changes,  and  they  were  not  the  cause  of  the  rupture  of  peace." — Encyclopedia 
Americana,  Article  Napoleon. 

"  Who,  let  me  ask,  first  proposed  to  the  Swiss  people  to  depart  from  the  neutrality  which 
was  their  chief  protection,  and  to  join  the  confederacy  against  the  French  1  I  answer,  that  a  no- 
ble relation  of  mine  (Lord  Herbert  Fitzgerald),  then  the  minister  of  England  to  the  Swiss  can- 
tons, was  instructed  in  direct  terms  to  propose  to  the  Swiss,  by  an  official  note,  to  break  from  the 
safe  line  they  had  laid  down  for  themselves,  and  to  tell  them  that  '  in  such  a  contest  neutrality  wai> 
criminal.'  I  know  that  noble  lord  too  well,  though  I  have  not  been  in  habits  of  intimacy  with  him 
of  late,  from  the  employments  in  which  he  has  been  engaged,  to  suspect  that  he  would  have  pre- 
sented such  a  paper  without  the  express  instructions  of  his  court,  or  that  he  would  have  gone  be- 
yond  those  instructions." — Speech  in  Parliament  by  Mr.  Fox. 


1801.]  NATIONAL  REFORMS.  357 

Involuntarily  I  felt  deep  emotion,  so  powerful  is  the  influence  of  early  habits 
and  associations.  I  said  to  myself,  If  I  feel  thus,  what  must  be  the  influence 
of  such  impressions  upon  the  popular  mind  ?  Let  your  philosophers  answer 
that,  if  they  can.  It  is  absolutely  indispensable  to  have  a  religion  for  the 
people.  It  will  be  said  that  I  am  a  Papist.  I  am  not.  I  am  convinced  that 
a  part  of  France  would  become  Protestant,  were  I  to  favor  that  disposition. 
I  am  also  certain  that  the  much  greater  portion  would  continue  Catholic,  and 
that  they  would  oppose,  with  the  greatest  zeal,  the  division  among  their  fel- 
low-citizens. We  should  then  have  the  Huguenot  wars  over  again,  and  in- 
terminable conflicts.  ^  But  by  reviving  a  religion  which  has  always  prevailed 
in  the  country,  and  by  giving  perfect  liberty  of  conscience  to  the  minority, 
all  will  be  satisfied." 

"  The  sound  of  a  bell,"  says  Bourrienne,  "  produced  an  effect  upon  Napo- 
leon which  I  could  never  explain.  He  listened  to  it  with  delight.  When  we 
were  at  Malmaison,  and  were  walking  in  the  road  which  led  to  Ruel,  how 
many  times  has  the  sound  of  the  bell  of  the  village  church  interrupted  the 
most  serious  conversation.  He  would  instantly  stop,  that  the  noise  of  our 
steps  might  not  cause  him  to  lose  a  single  one  of  those  distant  tones  which 
charmed  him.  He  was  vexed  with  me  because  I  did  not  experience  the  same 
impressions.  The  effect  produced  upon  him  was  so  great  that  his  voice 
trembled  with  emotion,  and  he  said  to  me,  'That  recalls  the  first  years  which 
I  passed  at  Brienne.  I  was  then  happy.'  I  have  been  twenty  times  witness 
to  the  singular  effect  which  the  sound  of  a  bell  had  upon  Napoleon." 

On  another  occasion  he  remarked,  "  What  renders  me  most  hostile  to  the 
establishment  of  the  Catholic  worship  are  the  numerous  festivals  formerly 
observed.  A  saint's  day  is  a  day  of  idleness,  and  I  do  not  wish  for  that. 
People  must  labor  in  order  to  live.  I  shall  consent  to  four  holidays  during 
the  year,  but  to  no  more.  If  the  gentlemen  from  Rome  are  not  satisfied 
with  that,  they  may  take  their  departure."  The  loss  of  time  appeared  to 
him  such  a  calamity,  that  he  almost  invariably  appointed  any  indispensable 
celebration  upon  some  day  previously  devoted  to  festivity. 

The  new  pontiff  was  attached  to  Napoleon  by  the  secret  chain  of  mutual 
sympathy.  They  had  met,  as  we  have  before  remarked,  during  the  wars  of 
Italy.  Pius  VII.,  then  the  Bishop  of  Imola,  was  surprised  and  delighted  in 
finding  in  the  young  Republican  general,  whose  fame  was  filling  Europe,  a 
man  of  refinement,  of  exalted  genius,  of  reflection,  of  serious  character,  of 
unblemished  purity  of  life,  and  of  delicate  sensibilities,  restraining  the  irre- 
ligious propensities  of  his  soldiers,  and  respecting  the  temples  of  religion. 
With  classic  purity  and  eloquence  he  spoke  the  Italian  language.  The  dig- 
nity and  decorum  of  his  manners,  and  his  love  of  order,  were  strangely  con- 
trasted with  the  recklessness  of  the  ferocious  soldiers  with  whom  he  was 
surrounded.  The  impression  thus  produced  upon  the  heart  of  the  pontiff 
was  never  effaced.  Justice  and  generosity  are  always  politic.  But  he  must 
indeed  be  influenced  by  an  ignoble  spirit  who  hence  infers  that  every  act  of 
magnanimity  is  dictated  by  policy.  A  legate  was  sent  by  the  Pope  to  Paris. 
"  Let  the  holy  father,"  said  Napoleon,  "  put  the  utmost  confidence  in  me. 
Let  him  cast  himself  into  my  arms,  and  I  will  be  for  the  Church  another 
Charlemagne." 


368  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.  [CHAP.  XXIII. 

Napoleon  had  collected  for  himself  a  library  of  well  chosen  books  relat- 
ing to  the  organization  and  the  history  of  the  Church,  and  to  the  relations  of 
Church  and  state.  He  had  ordered  the  Latin  writings  of  Bossuet  to  be  trans- 
lated for  him.  These  works  he  had  devoured  in  those  short  intervals  which 
he  could  glean  from  the  cares  of  government.  His  genius  enabled  him  at  a 
glance  to  master  the  argument  of  an  author,  to  detect  any  existing  sophis- 
try. His  memory,  almost  miraculously  retentive,  and  the  philosophical  cast 
of  his  mind,  gave  him  at  all  times  the  perfect  command  of  these  treasures 
of  knowledge.  He  astonished  the  world  by  the  accuracy,  extent,  and  vari- 
ety of  his  information  upon  all  points  of  religion. 

It  was  his  custom,  when  deeply  interested  in  any  subject,  to  discuss  it 
with  all  persons  from  whom  he  could  obtain  information-.  With  clear,  de- 
cisive, and  cogent  arguments,  he  advocated  his  own  views,  and  refuted  the 
erroneous  systems  successively  proposed  to  him.  It  was  urged  upon  Napo- 
leon that,  if  he  must  have  a  church,  he  should  establish  a  French  church,  in- 
dependent of  that  of  Rome.  The  poetic  element  was  too  strong  in  the  char- 
acter of  Napoleon  for  such  a  thought. 

"What !"  he  exclaimed,  "  shall  I,  a  warrior,  wearing  sword  and  spurs,  and 
doing  battle,  attempt  to  become  the  head  of  a  church,  and  to  regulate 
Church  discipline  and  doctrine.  I  wish  to  be  the  pacificator  of  France  and 
of  the  world,  and  shall  I  become  the  originator  of  a  new  schism,  a  little  more 
absurd  and  not  less  dangerous  than  the  preceding  ones.  I  must  have  a  Pope, 
and  a'  Pope  who  will  approximate  men's  minds  to  each  other  instead  of  cre- 
ating divisions ;  who  will  reunite  them,  and  give  them  to  the  government 
sprung  from  the  Revolution  as  a  price  for  the  protection  that  he  shall  have 
obtained  from  it.  For  this  purpose  I  must  have  the  true  Pope,  the  Catho- 
lic, apostolic,  and  Roman  Pope,  whose  seat  is  at  the  Vatican.  With  the 
French  armies  and  some  deference,  I  shall  always  be  sufficiently  his  master. 
When  I  shall  raise  up  the  altars  again,  when  I  shall  protect  the  priests,  when 
I  shall  feed  them,  and  treat  them  as  ministers  of  religion  deserve  to  be  treat- 
ed in  every  country,  he  will  do  what  I  ask  of  him,  through  the  interest  he 
will  have  in  the  general  tranquillity.  He  will  calm  men's  minds,  reunite 
them  under  his  hand,  and  place  them  under  mine.  Short  of  this  there  is 
only  a  continuation  and  an  aggravation  of  the  desolating  schism  which  is 
preying  on  us,  and  for  me  an  immense  and  indelible  ridicule." 

The  Pope's  legate  most  strenuously  urged  some  of  the  most  arrogant  and 
exclusive  assumptions  of  the  Papal  Church. 

"  The  French  people  must  be  allured  back  to  religion,"  said  Napoleon, 
"not  shocked.  To  declare  the  Catholic  religion  the  religion  of  the  state  is 
impossible.  It  is  contrary  to  the  ideas  prevalent  in  France,  and  will  never 
be  admitted.  In  place  of  this  declaration,  we  can  only  substitute  the  avowal 
of  the  fact  that  the  Catholic  religion  is  the  religion  of  the  majority  of  French- 
men. But  there  must  be  perfect  freedom  of  opinion.  The  amalgamation 
of  wise  and  honest  men  of  all  parties  is  the  principle  of  my  government.  I 
must  apply  that  principle  to  the  Church  as  well  as  to  the  state.  It  is  the 
only  way  of  putting  an  end  to  the  troubles  of  France,  and  I  shall  persist  in 
it  undeviatingly." 

The  question  of  the  re-establishment  of  Christianity  was  very  earnestly 


1801.]  NATIONAL  REFORMS.  359 

discussed  in  the  Council  of  State.  To  the  objections  which  were  urged,  Na- 
poleon replied,  "  You  are  deceived.  The  clergy  exists,  and  ever  will  exist. 
They  will  exist  as  long  as  the  people  are  imbued  with  a  religious  spirit,  and 
that  disposition  is  permanent  in  the  human  heart.  We  have  seen  republics 
and  democracies.  History  has  many  examples  of  such  governments  to  ex- 
hibit, but  none  of  a  state  without  an  established  worship,  without  religion, 
and  without  priests.  Is  it  not  better  to  organize  the  public  worship  and  dis- 
cipline the  priests,  than  to  leave  both  entirely  emancipated  from  the  control 
of  the  state  ?  At  present  the  clergy  openly  preach  against  the  Republic,  be- 
cause they  experience  no  benefit  from  it.  Should  we  transport  them  ?  Un- 
questionably not !  for  what  alone  constitutes  their  authority  in  the  wreck 
of  their  fortunes  is  the  fidelity  with  which  they  adhere  to  the  Church  of  their 
fathers,  and  that  will  be  increased  rather  than  diminished  by  all  the  suffer- 
ings they  undergo.  You  may  send  into  exile  the  English  or  the  Austrians, 
for  they  are  bound  by  no  ties  to  our  country ;  but  the  French,  who  have 
families  here,  and  are  guilty  of  no  offense  but  an  adherence  to  their  religious 
opinions,  must  be  treated  differently.  You  can  not  extinguish  their  opinions. 
You  must,  therefore,  attach  them  to  the  Republic.  If  the  Protestant  faith 
is  proclaimed,  one  half  the  country  will  adopt  that  creed,  and  the  other  half 
remain  Roman  Catholic.  We  shall  have  the  Huguenot  wars  over  again, 
and  interminable  divisions.  We  have  nothing  to  take  from  the  clergy,  and 
as  little  to  ask  from  them.  The  affair  is  entirely  a  political  matter,  and  the 
line  I  have  adopted  appears  the  safest  that  could  have  been  chosen." 

The  numbers  were :  For.  Against. 

Tribunate 78   7 

Legislative  body 228   21 

306  28* 

Napoleon  was  overjoyed  at  the  prospect  not  only  of  a  general  peace  with 
Europe,  but  of  religious  peace  in  France.  In  all  the  rural  districts,  the  in- 
habitants longed  for  their  churches  and  their  pastors,  and  for  the  rites  of  re- 
ligion. In  the  time  of  the  Directory,  a  famous  wooden  image  of  the  Virgin 
had  been  taken  from  the  church  at  Loretto,  and  was  deposited  in  one  of  the 
museums  of  Paris  as  a  curiosity.  The  sincere  Catholics  were  deeply  wound- 
ed and  irritated  by  this  act,  which  to  them  appeared  so  sacrilegious.  Great 
joy  was  caused  both  in  France  and  Italy  when  Napoleon  sent  a  courier  to 
the  Pope  restoring  this  statue,  which  was  regarded  with  very  peculiar  ven- 
eration. The  same  embassador  carried  the  terms  of  agreement  for  peace 
with  the  Church.  This  religious  treaty  with  Rome  was  called  "  The  Con- 
cordat." The  Pope,  in  secular  power,  was  helpless.  Napoleon  could,  at 
any  moment,  pour  a  resistless  swarm  of  troops  into  his  territories. 

As  the  French  embassador  left  the  Tuileries,  he  asked  the  First  Consul 
for  his  instructions.  "  Treat  the  Pope,"  said  Napoleon,  magnanimously,  "  as 
if  he  had  two  hundred  thousand  soldiers."  The  difficulties  in  the  way  of  an 
amicable  arrangement  were  innumerable.  The  army  of  France  was  thor- 
oughly infidel.  Most  of  the  leading  generals  and  statesmen  who  surrounded 
Napoleon  contemplated  Christianity  in  every  aspect  with  hatred  and  scorn. 
Qn  the  other  hand,  the  Catholic  Church,  uninstructed  by  misfortune,  was 

*  Thibodeaux,  p.  210. 


370  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.  [CHAP.  XXIII. 

not  disposed  to  abate  in  the  least  its  arrogant  demands,  and  was  clamorous 
for  concessions  which  even  Napoleon  had  not  power  to  confer.  It  required 
all  the  wisdom,  forbearance,  and  tact  of  the  First  Consul  to  accomplish  this 
reconciliation.  Joseph  Bonaparte,  the  accomplished  gentleman,  the  sincere, 
urbane,  sagacious,  upright  man,  was  Napoleon's  corps  de  reserve  in  all  di- 
plomatic acts. 

The  preliminaries  being  finally  adjusted,  the  Pope's  legation  met  at  the 
house  of  Joseph  Bonaparte,  and  on  the  15th  of  July,  1801,  this  great  act 
was  signed.  Napoleon  announced  the  event  to  the  Council  of  State.  He 
addressed  them  in  a  speech  an  hour  and  a  half  in  length,  and  all  were  struck 
with  the  precision,  the  vigor,  and  the  loftiness  of  his  language.  By  univer- 
sal consent,  his  speech  was  pronounced  to  be  eloquent  in  the  highest  degree. 
But  those  philosophers,  who  regarded  it  as  the  great  glory  of  the  Revolution 
that  all  superstition,  by  which  they  meant  all  religion,  was  swept  away,  in 
sullen  silence  yielded  to  a  power  which  they  could  not  resist.  The  people, 
the  millions  of  France,  were  with  Napoleon. 

The  following  liberal  and  noble  sentiments  were  uttered  in  the  proclama- 
tion by  which  Napoleon  announced  the  Concordat  to  the  French  people  : 
"An  insane  policy  has  sought,  during  the  Revolution,  to  smother  religious 
dissensions  under  the  ruins  of  the  altar,  under  the  ashes  of  religion  itself. 
At  its  voice  all  those  pious  solemnities  ceased  in  which  the  citizens  called 
each  other  by  the  endearing  name  of  brothers,  and  acknowledged  their  com 
mon  equality  in  the  sight  of  Heaven.  The  dying,  left  alone  in  his  agonies, 
no  longer  heard  that  consoling  voice  which  calls  the  Christian  to  a  better 
world.  God  himself  seemed  exiled  from  the  face  of  nature.  Ministers  of 
the  religion  of  peace,  let  a  complete  oblivion  vail  over  your  dissensions,  your 
misfortunes,  your  faults.  Let  the  religion  which  unites  you  bind  you  by  in- 
dissoluble cords  to  the  interests  of  your  country.  Let  the  young  learn  from 
your  precepts  that  the  God  of  peace  is  also  the  God  of  arms,  and  that  he 
throws  his  shield  over  those  who  combat  for  the  liberties  of  France.  Citi- 
zens of  the  Protestant  faith,  the  law  has  equally  extended  its  solicitude  to 
your  interests.  Let  the  morality,  so  pure,  so  holy,  so  brotherly,  which  you 
profess,  unite  you  all  in  love  to  your  country,  and  in  respect  for  its  laws ; 
and,  above  all,  never  permit  disputes  on  doctrinal  points  to  weaken  that  uni- 
versal charity  which  religion  at  once  inculcates  and  commands." 

To  foreign  nations,  the  spectacle  of  France  thus  voluntarily  returning  to 
the  Christian  faith  was  gratifying  in  the  highest  degree.  It  seemed  to  them 
the  pledge  of  peace  and  the  harbinger  of  tranquillity.  The  Emperor  of 
Russia  and  the  King  of  Prussia  publicly  expressed  their  joy  at  the  auspi- 
cious event.  The  Emperor  of  Austria  styled  it  "  a  service  truly  rendered  to 
all  Europe."  The  serious  and  devout  in  all  lands  considered  the  voluntary 
return  of  the  French  people  to  religion,  from  the  impossibility  of  living  with- 
out its  precepts,  as  one  of  the  most  signal  triumphs  of  the  Christian  faith. 

On  the  llth  of  April,  1802,  the  event  was  celebrated  by  a  magnificent  re- 
jfigious  ceremony  in  the  Cathedral  of  Notre  Dame.  No  expense  was  spared 
to  invest  the  festivity  with  the  utmost  splendor.  Though  many  of  the  gen- 
erals  and  the  hi?h  authorities  of  the  state  were  extremely  reluctant  to  par, 
ticipate  in  the  solemnities  of  the  occasion,  the  power  and  the  popularity  of 


1802.]  NATIONAL  REFORMS.  371 

the  First  Consul  were  so  great  that  they  dared  not  make  any  resistance. 
The  Cathedral  was  crowded  with  splendor.  The  versatile  populace,  ever 
delighted  with  change  and  with  shows,  were  overjoyed.  General  Rapp, 
however,  positively  refused  to  attend  the  ceremony.  With  the  bluntness  of 
a  soldier,  conscious  that  his  well-known  devotion  to  the  First  Consul  would 
procure  for  him  impunity,  he  said, 

"  I  shall  not  attend.  But  if  you  do  not  make  these  priests  your  aids  or 
your  cooks,  you  may  do  with  them  as  you  please." 

As  Napoleon  was  making  preparations  to  go  to  the  Cathedral,  Cambaceres 
entered  his  apartment. 

"  Well,"  said  the  First  Consul,  rubbing  his  hands  in  the  glow  of  his  grati- 
fication, "  we  go  to  church  this  morning.  What  say  they  to  that  in  Paris  ?" 

"Many  persons,"  replied  Cambaceres,  "propose  to  attend  the  first  repre- 
sentation in  order  to  hiss  the  piece,  should  they  not  find  it  amusing." 

"  If  any  one,"  Napoleon  firmly  replied,  "  takes  it  into  his  head  to  hiss,  I 
shall  put  him  out  of  the  door  by  the  grenadiers  of  the  consular  guard." 

"  But  what  if  the  grenadiers  themselves,"  Cambaceres  rejoined,  "  should 
take  to  hissing  like  the  rest  ?" 

"  As  to  that  I  have  no  fear,"  said  Napoleon.  "  My  old  mustaches  will  go 
here  to  Notre  Dame,  just  as  at  Cairo  they  would  have  gone  to  the  mosque. 
They  will  remark  how  I  do,  and,  seeing  their  general  grave  and  decent,  they 
will  be  so  too,  passing  the  watchword  to  each  other,  Decency." 

"  What  did  you  think  of  the  ceremony  ?"  inquired  Napoleon  of  General 
Delmas,  who  stood  near  him,  when  it  was  concluded. 

"  It  was  a  fine  piece  of  mummery,"  he  replied ;  "  nothing  was  wanting  but 
the  million  of  men  who  have  perished  to  destroy  that  which  you  have  now 
re-established." 

Some  of  the  priests,  encouraged  by  this  triumphant  restoration  of  Chris- 
tianity, began  to  assume  not  a  little  arrogance.  A  celebrated  opera  dancer 
died,  not  in  the  faith.  The  priest  of  St.  Roche  refused  to  receive  the  body 
into  the  church,  or  to  celebrate  over  it  the  rites  of  interment.  The  next  day 
Napoleon  caused  the  following  article  to  be  inserted  in  the  Moniteur : 

"  The  curate  of  St.  Roche,  in  a  moment  of  hallucination,  has  refused  the 
rites  of  burial  to  Mademoiselle  Cameroi.  One  of  his  colleagues,  a  man  of 
sense,  received  the  procession  into  the  church  of  St.  Thomas,  where  the  bur- 
ial service  was  performed  with  the  usual  solemnities.  The  Archbishop  of 
Paris  has  suspended  the  curate  of  St.  Roche  for  three  months,  to  give  him 
time  to  recollect  that  Jesus  Christ  commanded  us  to  pray  even  for  our  ene- 
mies. Being  thus  recalled  by  meditation  to  a  proper  sense  of  his  duties,  he 
may  learn  that  all  these  superstitious  observances,  the  offspring  of  an  age  of 
credulity  or  of  crazed  imaginations,  tend  only  to  the  discredit  of  true  religion, 
and  have  been  proscribed  by  the  recent  Concordat  of  the  French  Church." 

The  most  strenuous  exertions  were  made  by  the  clergy  to  induce  Napo- 
leon publicly  to  partake  of  the  sacrament  of  the  Lord's  Supper.  It  was 
thought  that  his  high  example  would  be  very  influential  upon  others.  Na- 
poleon nobly  replied,  "  I  have  not  sufficient  faith  in  the  ordinance  to  be  ben- 
efited by  its  reception ;  and  I  have  too  much  faith  in  it  to  allow  me  to  be 
guilty  of  sacrilege.  We  are  well  as  we  are.  Do  not  ask  me  to  go  farther. 


372  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.  [CHAP.  XXIII. 

You  will  never  obtain  what  you  wish.     I  will  not  become  a  hypocrite.     Be 
content  with  what  you  have  already  gained." 

It  is  difficult  to  describe  the  undisguised  delight  with  which  the  peasants 
all  over  France  again  heard  the  ringing  of  the  church  bells  upon  the  Sab- 
bath morning,  and  witnessed  the  opening  of  the  church  doors,  the  assembling 
of  the  congregations  with  smiles  and  congratulations,  and  the  repose  of  the 
Sabbath.  Mr.  Fox,  in  conversation  with  Napoleon  after  the  peace  of  Amiens, 
ventured  to  blame  him  for  not  having  authorized  the  marriage  of  priests  in 
France.  "  I  then  had,"  said  Napoleon,  in  his  nervous  eloquence,  "  need  to 
pacify.  It  is  with  water,  and  not  with  oil,  that  you  must  extinguish  theo- 
logical volcanoes.  I  should  have  had  less  difficulty  in  establishing  the  Prot- 
estant religion  in  my  empire." 

The  magistrates  of  Paris,  grateful  for  the  inestimable  blessings  which  Na- 
poleon had  conferred  upon  France,  requested  him  to  accept  the  project  of  a 
triumphal  monument  to  be  erected  in  his  honor,  at  a  cost  of  one  hundred  thou- 
sand dollars.  Napoleon  gave  the  following  reply  : 

"  I  view  with  grateful  acknowledgments  those  sentiments  which  actuate 
the  magistrates  of  the  city  of  Paris.  The  idea  of  dedicating  monumental 
trophies  to  those  men  who  have  rendered  themselves  useful  to  the  communi- 
ty is  a  praiseworthy  action  in  all  nations.  I  accept  the  offer  of  the  monu- 
ment which  you  desire  to  dedicate  to  me.  Let  the  spot  be  designated.  But 
leave  the  labor  of  constructing  it  to  future  generations,  should  they  think  fit 
thus  to  sanction  the  estimate  which  you  place  upon  my  services."  Beneath 
the  dome  of  the  Invalides  may  now  be  seen  the  estimate  which  France  has 
placed  on  the  services  of  Napoleon. 

There  was  an  indescribable  fascination  about  the  character  of  Napoleon 
which  no  other  man  ever  possessed,  and  which  all  felt  who  entered  his  pres- 
ence. Some  military  officers  of  high  rank,  on  one  occasion,  in  these  days 
of  his  early  power,  agreed  to  go  and- remonstrate  with  him  upon  some  subject 
which  had  given  them  offense.  One  of  the  party  thus  describes  the  inter- 
view : 

"  I  do  not  know  whence  it  arises,  but  there  is  a  charm  about  that  man 
which  is  indescribable  and  irresistible.  I  am  no  admirer  of  him.  I  dislike 
the  power  to  which  he  has  risen.  Yet  I  can  not  help  confessing  that  there 
is  a  something  in  him  which  seems  to  speak  that  he  is  born  to  command. 
We  went  into  his  apartment  determined  to  declare  our  minds  to  him  very 
freely,  to  expostulate  with  him  warmly,  and  not  to  depart  till  our  subjects 
of  complaint  were  removed.  But  in  his  manner  of  receiving  us  there  was 
a  certain  something,  a  degree  of  fascination,  which  disarmed  us  in  a  moment-, 
nor  could  we  utter  one  word  of  what  we  had  intended  to  say.  He  talked  to 
us  for  a  long  time  with  an  eloquence  peculiarly  his  own,  explaining,  with 
the  utmost  clearness  and  precision,  the  necessity  for  steadily  pursuing  the 
line  of  conduct  he  had  adopted.  Without  contradicting  us  in  direct  terms, 
he  controverted  our  opinions  so  ably  that  we  had  not  a  word  to  say  in  reply. 
We  left  him,  having  done  nothing  else  but  listen  to  him  instead  of  expostu- 
lating with  him,  and  fully  convinced,  at  least  for  the  moment,  that  he  was 
in  the  right  and  we  were  in  the  wrong." 

The  merchants  of  Rouen  experienced  a  similar  fascination  when  they 


1802.]  NATIONAL  REFORMS.  373 

called  to  remonstrate  against  some  commercial  relations  which  Napoleon 
had  introduced.  They  were  so  entirely  disarmed  by  his  frankness,  his  sin- 
cerity, and  were  so  deeply  impressed  by  the  extent  and  the  depth  of  his  views, 
that  they  retired,  saying,  "  The  First  Consul  understands  our  interests  far 
better  than  we  do  ourselves." 

"  The  man,"  says  Lady  Morgan,  "  who,  at  the  head  of  a  vast  empire, 
could  plan  great  and  lasting  works,  conquer  nations,  and  yet  talk  astronomy 
with  La  Place,  tragedy  with  Talma,  music  with  Cherubini,  painting  with 
Gerrard,  vertu  with  Denon,  and  literature  and  science  with  any  one  who 
would  listen  to  him,  was  certainly  out  of  the  roll  of  common  men." 

Napoleon  now  exerted  all  his  energies  for  the  elevation  of  France.  He 
sought  out  and  encouraged  talent  wherever  it  could  be  found.  No  merit 
escaped  his  princely  munificence.  Authors,  artists,  men  of  science  were 
loaded  with  honors  and  emoluments.  He  devoted  most  earnest  attention  to 
the  education  of  youth.  The  navy,  commerce,  agriculture,  manufactures, 
and  all  mechanic  arts,  secured  his  assiduous  care.  He  labored  to  the  ut- 
most, and  with  a  moral  courage  above  all  praise,  to  discountenance  whatever 
was  loose  in  morals,  or  enervating  or  unmanly  in  amusements  or  taste. 

The  theatre  was  the  most  popular  source  of  entertainment  in  France.  He 
frowned  upon  all  frivolous  and  immodest  performances,  and  encouraged  those 
only  which  were  moral,  grave,  and  dignified.  In  the  grandeur  of  tragedy  alone 
he  took  pleasure.  In  his  private  deportment  he  exhibited  the  example  of  a 
moral,  simple,  and  toilsome  life.  Among  the  forty  millions  of  France,  there 
was  not  to  be  found  a  more  temperate  and  laborious  man.  When  nights  of 
labor  succeeded  days  of  toil,  his  only  stimulus  was  lemonade.  He  loved  his 
own  family  and  friends,  and  was  loved  by  them  with  a  fervor  which  soared 
into  the  regions  of  devotion.  Never  before  did -mortal  man  secure  such  love. 
Thousands  were  ready  at  any  moment  to  lay  down  their  lives  through  their 
affection  for  him.  And  that  mysterious  charm  was  so  strong  that  it  has  sur- 
vived his  death.  Thousands  now  live  who*  would  brave  death  in  any  form 
from  love  for  Napoleon.* 

*  "  If  Napoleon  had  not  distinguished  himself  as  a  soldier,  he  would  have  done  so  as  an  author, 
poet,  orator,  or  mathematician,  somehow  or  other ;  for  he  was  potent  with  both  tongue  and  pen 
as  well  as  sword.  His  conversation  was  highly  instructive,  and  he  was  one  of  the  most  eloquent 
men  of  modern  times.  His  orders  of  the  day,  proclamations,  bulletins,  speeches,  addresses,  and 
answers  to  addresses — all  his  writings,  from  his  first  appearance  in  Italy  to  his  last  will  and  testa- 
ment at  St.  Helena — many  of  his  sudden  sayings,  his  maxims,  sarcasms,  witticisms,  and  unpremed- 
itated observations,  breathe  an  abrupt,  vivifying,  concentrated,  and  peculiar  spirit,  poetical  and  im- 
aginative, logical  and  argumentative,  fervid  and  forcible. 

"  Napoleon  was  a  free  talker,  never  wrapped  up  in  mysterious  taciturnity,  or  disclosed  by  oracular 
intimations.  Yet  he  was  a  listener  too,  which  is  a  rare  talent,  and  could  keep  his  decision  sus- 
pended till  he  heard  all  that  might  be  said  on  all  sides.  Deliberations  lasted  mostly  five  or  six 
hours  a  day,  which  is  longer  than  an  American  judicial,  much  longer  than  a  legislative  daily  ses- 
sion. Not  only  would  the  Emperor,  all  that  time,  take  his  part  in  the  council,  but  often  keep  some 
of  the  counselors  to  dine  with  him,  during  and  after  dinner  renewing  the  subject,  and  analyzing  it 
in  every  way.  In  those  grave,  sometimes  technical  and  complicated  questions,  the  astonishing  ver- 
satility of  his  genius,  and  extent  of  his  attainments  for  civil  as  well  as  military  government,  the 
quickness  and  clearness  with  which  he  seized  the  very  point  in  question  in  matters  he  had  not  been 
educated  to,  and  might  well  have  been  uninformed  of,  his  superior  knowledge  of  men  and  things, 
were  wonderfully  apparent." — Ingersoll's  Second  War,  vol.  i.,  p.  154,  Second  Series. 


374  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.  [CHAP.  XXIV. 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

FIRST     CONSUL     FOR    LIFE. 

Peace  in  France — Trials  of  Josephine — State  of  Morals — Josephine's  Plans  for  Hortense — Louis 
Bonaparte — Italian  Republic — Congress  at  Lyons — Incessant  Activity  of  Napoleon — Solicitude 
of  England — Schools — Origin  of  the  Decoration  of  the  Legion  of  Honor — Election  as  First  Con- 
sul for  Life — Reproof  to  Lucien  and  Eliza — Review — Renewal  of  Difficulties  with  England. 

FRANCE  was  now  at  peace  with  all  the  world.  It  was  universally  admit- 
ted that  Napoleon  was  the  great  pacificator.  He  was  the  idol  of  France. 
The  masses  of  the  people  of  Europe  every  where  regarded  him  as  their  ad- 
vocate and  friend,  the  enemy  of  aristocratic  usurpation,  and  the  great  cham- 
pion of  equality.  The  people  of  France  no  longer  demanded  liberty.  Weary 
years  of  woe  had  taught  them  gladly  to  relinquish  the  boon.  They  only  de- 
sired a  ruler  who  would  take  care  of  them,  govern  them,  protect  them  from 
the  power  of  allied  despotism,  and  give  them  equal  rights.  Though  Napoleon 
had  now  but  the  title  of  First  Consul,  and  France  was  nominally  a  repub- 
lic, he  was,  in  reality,  the  most  powerful  monarch  in  Europe.  His  throne 
was  established  in  the  hearts  of  nearly  forty  millions  of  people.  His  word 
was  law. 

It  will  be  remembered  that  Josephine  contemplated  the  extraordinary 
grandeur  to  which  her  husband  had  attained,  with  intense  solicitude.  She 
saw  that  more  than  ordinary  regal  power  had  passed  into  his  hands,  and  she 
was  not  a  stranger  to  the  intense  desire  which  animated  his  heart  to  have  an 
heir  to  whom  to  transmit  his  name  and  glory.  She  knew  that  many  were 
intimating  to  him  that  an  heir  was  essential  to  the  repose  of  France.  She 
was  fully  informed  that  divorce  had  been  urged  upon  him  as  one  of  the  stern 
necessities  of  state.  One  day,  when  Napoleon  was  busy  in  his  cabinet,  Jose- 
phine entered  softly  by  a  side  door,  and  seating  herself  affectionately  upon 
his  knee,  and  passing  her  hand  gently  through  his  hair,  said  to  him,  with  a 
burst  of  tenderness, 

"  I  entreat  yon,  my  love,  do  not  make  yourself  king.  It  is  Lucien  who 
urges  you  to  it.  Do  not  listen  to  him." 

Napoleon  smiled  upon  her  kindly,  and  said,  "  Why,  my  poor  Josephine, 
you  are  mad.  You  must  not  listen  to  these  fables  which  the  old  dowagers 
tell  you.  But  you  interrupt  me  now  ;  I  am  very  busy  ;  leave  me  alone." 

Josephine  was  at  times  almost  delirious  in  apprehension  of  the  awful  ca- 
lamity which  threatened  her.  She  knew  the  intensity  of  her  husband's 
love.  She  also  knew  the  boundlessness  of  his  ambition.  She  could  not  be 
blind  to  the  apparent  importance,  as  a  matter  of  state  policy,  that  Napoleon 
should  possess  an  heir.  She  also  was  fully  aware  that  throughout  France 
marriage  had  long  been  regarded  but  as  a  partnership  of  convenience,  to  be 
formed  and  sundered  almost  at  pleasure.  "  Marriage,"  said  Madame  de 
Stae'l,  "  has  become  but  the  sacrament  of  adultery."  The  nation,  under  the 
influence  of  these  views,  would  condemn  her  for  selfishly  refusing  assent  to 


1802.]  FIRST  CONSUL  FOR  LIFE.  375 

an  arrangement  apparently  essential  to  the  repose  of  France  and  of  Europe. 
Never  was  a  woman  placed  in  a  situation  of  more  terrible  trial.  Never  was 
an  ambitious  man  exposed  to  a  more  fiery  temptation. 

Laying  aside  the  authority  of  Christianity,  and  contemplating  the  subject 
in  the  light  of  mere  expediency,  it  seemed  a  plain  duty  for  Napoleon  and 
Josephine  to  separate.  But  gloriously  does  it  illustrate  the  immutable  truth 
of  God's  word,  that  even  in  such  an  exigence  as  this,  the  path  which  the 
Bible  pointed  out  was  the  only  path  of  safety  and  of  peace.  "  In  separating 
myself  from  Josephine,"  said  Napoleon  afterward,  "  and  in  marrying  Maria 
Louisa,  I  placed  my  foot  upon  an  abyss  which  was  covered  with  flowers." 

Josephine's  daughter,  Hortense,  beautiful,  brilliant,  and  amiable,  then  but 
eighteen  years  of  age,  was  strongly  attached  to  Duroc,  one  of  Napoleon's 
aids,  a  very  fashionable  and  handsome  man.  Josephine,  however,  had  con- 
ceived the  idea  of  marrying  Hortense  to  Louis  Bonaparte,  Napoleon's  younger 
brother.  She  said  one  day  to  Bourrienne, 

"  My  two  brothers-in-law  are  my  determined  enemies.  You  see  all  their 
intrigues.  You  know  how  much  uneasiness  they  have  caused  me.  This 
projected  marriage  with  Duroc  leaves  me  without  any  support.  Duroc,  in- 
dependent of  Bonaparte's  friendship,  is  nothing.  He  has  neither  fortune, 
rank,  nor  even  reputation.  He  can  afford  me  no  protection  against  the  en- 
mity of  the  brothers.  I  must  have  some  more  certain  reliance  for  the  future. 
My  husband  loves  Louis  very  much.  If  I  can  succeed  in  uniting  my  daughter 
to  him,  he  will  prove  a  strong  counterpoise  to  the  calumnies  and  persecutions 
of  my  brothers-in-law." 

These  remarks  were  reported  to  Napoleon.  He  replied,  "  Josephine  la- 
bors in  vain.  Duroc  and  Hortense  love  each  other,  and  they  shall  be  mar- 
ried. I  am  attached  to  Duroc.  He  is  well  born.  I  have  given  Caroline  to 
Murat,  and  Pauline  to  Le  Clerc.  I  can  as  well  give  Hortense  to  Duroc. 
He  is  brave.  He  is  as  good  as  the  others.  He  is  general  of  division.  Be- 
sides, I  have  other  views  for  Louis." 

In  the  palace  the  heart  may  throb  with  the  same  joys  and  griefs  as  in  the 
cottage.  In  anticipation  of  the  projected  marriage,  Duroc  was  sent  on  a 
special  mission  to  compliment  the  Emperor  Alexander  on  his  accession  to 
the  throne.  Duroc  wrote  often  to  Hortense  while  absent.  When  the  pri- 
vate secretary  whispered  in  her  ear,  in  the  midst  of  the  brilliant  throng  of 
the  Tuileries,  "  I  have  a  letter,"  she  would  immediately  retire  to  her  apart- 
ment. Upon  her  return,  her  friends  could  see  that  her  eyes  were  moistened 
with  the  tears  of  affection  and  joy.  Josephine  cherished  the  hope  that,  could 
she  succeed  in  uniting  Hortense  with  Louis  Bonaparte,  should  Hortense  give 
birth  to  a  son,  Napoleon  would  regard  him  as  his  heir.  The  child  would 
bear  the  name  of  Bonaparte  ;  th«  bloo  1  of  the  Bonapartes  would  circulate  in 
his  veins ;  and  he  would  be  the  offspring  of  Hortense,  whom  Napoleon  re- 
garded as  his  own  daughter,  and  whom  he  loved  with  the  strongest  parental 
affection.  Thus  the  terrible  divorce  might  be  averted.  Urged  by  motives 
so  powerful.  Josephine  left  no  means  untried  to  accomplish  her  purpose. 

Louis  Bonaparte  was  a  studious,  pensive,  imaginative  man,  of  great  moral 
worth,  though  possessing  but  little  force  of  character.  He  had  been  bitterly 
disappointed  in  his  affections,  and  was  weary  of  the  world.  When  but  nine- 


376  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.          [CHAP.  XXIV 

teen  years  of  age  he  had  formed  a  very  strong  attachment  for  a  young  lady 
whom  he  had  met  in  Paris.  She  was  the  daughter  of  an  emigrant  noble 
and  his  whole  being  became  absorbed  in  the  passion  of  love.  Napoleon, 
then  in  the  midst  of  those  victories  which  paved  his  way  to  the  throne  of 
France,  was  apprehensive  that  the  alliance  of  his  brother  with  one  of  the  old 
Royalist  families  might  endanger  his  own  ambitious  projects.  He  therefor.? 
sent  him  away  on  a  military  commission,  and  secured,  by  his  powerful  in 
strumentality,  the  marriage  of  the  young  lady  to  another  person.  The  dis- 
appointment preyed  deeply  upon  the  heart  of  the  sensitive  young  man.  All 
ambition  died  within  him.  He  loved  solitude,  and  studiously  avoided  the 
cares  and  pomp  of  state.  Napoleon,  not  having  been  aware  of  the  extrenu. 
strength  of  his  brother's  attachment,  when  he  saw  the  wound  which  he  had 
inflicted  upon  him,  endeavored  to  make  all  the  amends  in  his  power.  Hor- 
tense  was  beautiful,  full  of  grace  and  vivacity.  At  last  Napoleon  fell  in  wilh 
the  views  of  Josephine,  and  resolved,  having  united  the  two,  to  recompense 
his  brother,  as  far  as  possible,  by  lavishing  great  favors  upon  them. 

It  was  long  before  Louis  would  listen  to  the  proposition  of  his  marriage 
with  Hortense.  His  affections  still  clung  to  the  lost  object  of  his  idolatry, 
and  he  could  not,  without  pain,  think  of  union  with  another.  Indeed,  a  more 
uncongenial  alliance  could  hardly  have  been  imagined.  In  no  one  thing 
were  their  tastes  similar.  But  who  could  resist  the  combined  tact  of  Jose- 
phine and  power  of  Napoleon.  All  obstacles  were  swept  away,  and  the 
maiden,  loving  the  hilarity  of  life,  and  its  gayest  scenes  of  festivity  and 
splendor,  was  reluctantly  led  to  the  silent,  pensive  scholar,  who  as  reluct- 
antly received  her  as  his  bride. 

Hortense  had  become  in  some  degree  reconciled  to  the  match,  as  her 
powerful  father  promised  to  place  them  in  high  positions  of  wealth  and  rank. 
Louis  resigned  himself  to  his  lot,  feeling  that  earth  had  no  further  joy  in 
store  for  him.  A  magnificent  fete  was  given  in  honor  of  this  marriage,  at 
which  all  the  splendors  of  the  ancient  royalty  were  revived.  Louis  Napo- 
leon Bonaparte,  who,  as  President  of  the  French  Republic,  succeeded  Louis 
Philippe,  the  King  of  the  French,  was  the  only  child  of  this  marriage  who 
survived  his  parents. 

Napoleon  had  organized  in  the  heart  of  Italy  a  republic  containing  about 
five  millions  of  inhabitants.  This  republic  could  by  no  means  maintain  it- 
self against  the  monarchies  of  Europe,  unaided  by  France.  Napoleon,  sur- 
rounded by  hostile  kings,  deemed  it  essential  to  the  safety  of  France  to  se- 
cure in  Italy  a  nation  of  congenial  sympathies  and  interests,  with  whom  he 
could  form  the  alliance  of  cordial  friendship.  The  Italians,  all  inexperienced 
in  self-government,  regarding  Napoleon  as  their  benefactor  and  their  sole 
supporter,  looked  to  him  for  a  const' tution.  Three  of  the  most  influential 
men  of  the  Cisalpine  Republic  were  sent  as  delegates  to  Paris,  to  consult 
with  the  First  Consul  upon  the  organization  of  their  government.  Under 
the  direction  of  Napoleon  a  constitution  was  drafted,  which,  considering  the 
character  of  the  Italian  people,  and  the  hostile  monarchical  influences  which 
surrounded  them,  was  most  highly  liberal.  A  President  and  Vice-President 
were  to  be  chosen  for  ten  years.  There  was  to  be  a  Senate  of  eight  mem- 
bers and  a  House  of  Representatives  of  seventy-five  members.  These  were 


1802.]  FIRST  CONSUL  FOR  LIFE.  377 

all  to  be  selected  from  a  body  composed  of  300  landed  proprietors,  200  mer- 
chants, and  200  of  the  clergy  and  prominent  literary  men.  Thus  all  the  im- 
portant interests  of  the  state  were  represented. 

In  Italy,  as  in  all  the  other  countries  of  Europe  at  that  time,  there  were 
three  prominent  parties.  The  Loyalists  sought  the  restoration  of  monarchy 
and  the  exclusive  privileges  of  kings  and  nobles.  The  moderate  Republicans 
wished  to  establish  a  firm  government,  which  would  enforce  order,  and  con- 
fer upon  all  equal  rights.  The  Jacobins  wished  to  break  down  all  dis- 
tinctions, divide  property,  and  to  govern  by  the  blind  energies  of  the  mob. 
Italy  had  long  been  held  in  subjection  by  the  spiritual  terrors  of  the  priests 
and  by  the  bayonets  of  the  Austrians.  Ages  of  bondage  had  enervated  the 
people,  and  there  were  no  Italian  statesmen  capable  of  taking  the  helm  of 
government  in  such  a  turbulent  sea  of  troubles.  Napoleon  resolved  to  have 
himself  proposed  as  President,  and  then,  reserving  to  himself  the  supreme 
direction,  to  delegate  the  details  of  affairs  to  distinguished  Italians,  until  they 
should,  in  some  degree,  be  trained  to  duties  so  new  to  them. 

"  This  plan,"  says  Thiers,  "  was  not,  on  his  part,  the  inspiration  of  ambi- 
tion, but  rather  of  great  good  sense.  His  viewrs  on  this  occasion  were  un- 
questionably both  pure  and  exalted."  But  nothing  can  more  strikingly  show 
the  almost  miraculous  energies  of  Napoleon's  mind,  and  his  perfect  self-reli- 
ance, than  the  readiness  with  which,  in  addition  to  the  cares  of  the  empire 
of  France,  he  assumed  the  responsibility  of  organizing  and  developing  an- 
other nation  of  five  millions  of  inhabitants.  This  was  in  1802.  Napoleon 
was  then  but  thirty-three  years  of  age. 

To  have  surrendered  those  Italians,  who  had  rallied  around  the  armies  of 
France  in  their  hour  of  need,  again  to  Austrian  domination,  would  have  been 
an  act  of  treachery.  To  have  abandoned  them,  in  their  inexperience,  to  the 
Jacobin  mob  on  the  one  hand,  and  to  Royalist  intrigues  on  the  other,  would 
have  insured  the  ruin  of  the  Republic.  But  by  leaving  the  details  of  govern- 
ment to  be  administered  by  Italians,  and  at  the  same  time  sustaining  the 
constitution  by  his  own  powerful  hand,  there  was  a  probability  that  the  re- 
public might  attain  prosperity  and  independence.  As  the  press  of  business 
rendered  it  extremely  difficult  for  Napoleon  to  leave  France,  a  plan  was 
formed  for  a  vast  congress  of  the  Italians  to  be  assembled  in  Lyons,  about 
half  way  between  Paris  and  Milan,  for  the  imposing  adoption  of  the  repub- 
lican constitution. 

Four  hundred  and  fifty-two  deputies  were  elected  to  cross  the  frozen  Alps 
in  the  month  of  December.  The  extraordinary  watchfulness  and  foresight 
of  the  First  Consul  had  prepared  every  thing  for  them  on  the  way.  In 
Lyons  sumptuous  preparations  were  made  for  their  entertainment.  Mag- 
nificent halls  were  decorated  in  the  highest  style  of  earthly  splendor  for  the 
solemnities  of  the  occasion.  The  army  of  Egypt,  which  had  recently  land- 
ed, bronzed  by  an  African  sun,  was  gorgeous^  attired,  to  add  to  the  magnifi- 
cence of  the  spectacle .  The  Ly onese  youth,  exultant  with  pride,  were  formed 
into  an  imposing  body  of  cavalry. 

On  the  llth  of  January,  1802,  Napoleon,  accompanied  by  Josephine,  ar- 
rived in  Lyons.  The  whole  population  of  the  adjoining  country  had  assem- 
bled along  the  road,  anxiously  watching  for  hic  passage.  At  night  immense 


378  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.          [CHAP.  XXIV. 

fires  illumined  his  path,  blazing  upon  every  hill-side  and  in  every  valley. 
One  continuous  shout  of  "  Live  Bonaparte  !"  rolled  along  with  the  carriage 
from  Paris  to  Lyons.  It  was  late  in  the  evening  when  Napoleon  arrived  in 
Lyons.  The  brilliant  city  flamed  with  the  splendor  of  noon-day.  The  car- 
riage of  the  First  Consul  passed  under  a  triumphal  arch,  surmounted  by  a 
sleeping  lion,  the  emblem  of  France,  and  Napoleon  took  up  his  residence  in 
the  Hotel  de  Ville,  which,  in  most  princely  sumptuousness,  had  been  deco- 
rated for  his  reception.  The  Italians  adored  Napoleon.  They  felt  person- 
ally ennobled  by  his  renown,  for  they  considered  him  their  countryman. 
The  Italian  language  was  his  native  tongue,  and  he  spoke  it  with  the  most 
perfect  fluency  and  elegance.  The  moment  that  the  name  of  Napoleon  was 
suggested  to  the  deputies  as  President  of  the  Republic,  it  was  received  with 
shouts  of  enthusiastic  acclamation. 


REVIEW    AT    LYONS. 


A  deputation  was  immediately  sent  to  the  First  Consul  to  express  the 
unanimous  and  cordial  wish  of  the  Convention  that  he  would  accept  the 


1802.]  FIRST  CONSUL  FOR  LIFE.  379 

office.  While  these  things  were  transpiring,  Napoleon,  ever  intensely  occu- 
pied, was  inspecting  his  veteran  soldiers  of  Italy  and  of  Egypt  in  a  public 
review.  The  elements  seemed  to  conspire  to  invest  the  occasion  with  splen- 
dor. The  day  was  cloudless,  the  sun  brilliant,  the  sky  serene,  the  air  invig- 
orating. All  the  inhabitants  of  Lyons  and  the  populace  of  the  adjacent 
country  thronged  the  streets.  No  pen  can  describe  the  transports  with 
which  the  hero  was  received,  as  he  rode  along  the  lines  of  these  veterans, 
whom  he  had  so  often  led  to  victory.  The  soldiers  shouted  in  a  phrensy  of 
enthusiasm.  Old  men,  and  young  men,  and  boys  caught  the  shout,  and  it 
reverberated  along  the  streets  in  one  continuous  roar.  Matrons  and  maidens, 
waving  banners  and  handkerchiefs,  wept  in  excess  of  emotion.  Bouquets 
of  flowers  were  showered  from  the  windows  to  carpet  his  path,  and  every 
conceivable  demonstration  was  made  of  the  most  enthusiastic  love. 

Napoleon  himself  was  deeply  moved  by  the  scene.  Some  of  the  old  gren- 
adiers, whom  he  recognized,  he  called  out  of  the  ranks,  kindly  talked  with 
them,  inquiring  respecting  their  wounds  and  their  wants.  He  addressed  sev- 
eral of  the  officers,  whom  he  had  seen  in  many  encounters,  shook  hands  with 
them,  and  a  delirium  of  excitement  pervaded  all  minds.  Upon  his  return  to 
the  Hotel  de  Ville,  he  met  the  deputation  of  the  Convention.  They  present- 
ed him  the  address,  urging  upon  him  the  acceptance  of  the  Presidency  of 
the  Cisalpine  Republic.  Napoleon  received  the  address,  intimated  his  ac- 
ceptance, and  promised,  on  the  following  day,  to  meet  the  Convention. 

The  next  morning  dawned  brightly  upon  the  city.  A  large  church,  em- 
bellished with  richest  drapery,  was  prepared  for  the  solemnities  of  the  occa- 
sion. Napoleon  entered  the  church,  took  his  seat  upon  an  elevated  platform, 
surrounded  by  his  family,  the  French  ministers,  and  a  large  number  of  dis- 
tinguished generals  and  statesmen.  He  addressed  the  assembly  in  the  Ital- 
ian language  with  as  much  ease  of  manner,  elegance  of  expression,  and  flu- 
ency of  utterance  as  if  his  whole  life  had  been  devoted  to  the  cultivation  of 
the  powers  of  oratory.  He  announced  his  acceptance  of  the  dignity  with 
which  they  would  invest  him,  and  uttered  his  views  respecting  the  measures 
which  should  be  adopted  to  secure  the  prosperity  of  the  Italian  Republic,  as 
the  new  state  was  henceforth  to  be  called.  Repeated  bursts  of  applause  in- 
terrupted his  address,  and  at  its  close  one  continuous  shout  of  acclamation 
testified  the  assent  and  the  delight  of  the  assembled  multitude.  Napoleon 
remained  at  Lyons  twenty  days,  occupied  apparently,  every  moment,  with 
the  vast  affairs  which  then  engrossed  his  attention.  And  yet  he  found  time 
to  write  daily  to  Paris,  urging  forward  the  majestic  enterprises  of  the  new 
government  in  France.  The  following  brief  extracts  from  this  free  and 
confidential  correspondence  afford  an  interesting  glimpse  of  the  motives 
which  actuated  Napoleon  at  this  time,  and  of  the  great  objects  of  his  am- 
bition. 

"  I  am  proceeding  slowly  in  my  operations.  I  pass  the  whole  of  my  morn- 
ings in  giving  audience  to  the  deputations  of  the  neighboring  departments. 
The  improvement  in  the  happiness  of  France  is  obvious.  During  the  past 
two  years  the  population  of  Lyons  has  increased  more  than  20,000  souls. 
All  the  manufacturers  tell  me  that  their  works  are  in  a  state  of  high  activi- 
ty. All  minds  seem  to  be  full  of  energy ;  not  that  energy  which  overturns 


380  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.  [CHAP.  XXIV. 

empires,  but  that  which  re-establishes  them,  and  conducts  them  to  prosperi- 
ty and  riches. 

"  I  beg  of  you  particularly  to  see  that  the  unruly  members  whom  we  have 
in  the  constituted  authorities  are  every  one  of  them  removed.  The  wish  of 
the  nation  is  that  the  government  shall  not  be  obstructed  in  its  endeavors  to 
act  for  the  public  good,  and  that  the  head  of  Medusa  shall  no  longer  show  it- 
self either  in  our  tribunes  or  in  our  assemblies.  The  conduct  of  Sieyes  on 
this  occasion  completely  proves  that,  having  contributed  to  the  destruction 
of  all  the  constitutions  since  '91,  he  wishes  now  to  try  his  hand  against  the 
present.  He  ought  to  burn  a  wax  candle  to  Our  Lady  for  having  got  out  of 
the  scrape  so  fortunately  and  in  so  unexpected  a  manner.  But  the  older  I 
grow,  the  more  I  perceive  that  each  man  must  fulfill  his  destiny.  I  recom- 
mend you  to  ascertain  whether  the  provisions  for  St.  Domingo  have  actually 
been  sent  off.  I  take  it  for  granted  that  you  have  taken  proper  measures 
for  demolishing  the  Chatelet.  If  the  Minister  of  Marine  should  stand  in  need 
of  the  frigates  of  the  King  of  Naples,  he  may  make  use  of  them.  General 
Jourdan  gives  me  a  satisfactory  account  of  the  state  of  Piedmont. 

"  I  wish  that  Citizen  Royer  be  sent  to  the  16th  military  division  to  exam- 
ine into  the  accounts  of  the  paymaster.  I  also  wish  some  individual,  like 
Citizen  Royer,  to  perform  the  same  duty  for  the  13th  and  14th  divisions.  It 
is  complained  that  the  receivers  keep  the  money  as  long  as  they  can,  and 
that  the  paymasters  postpone  payment  as  long  as  possible.  The  paymasters 
and  the  receivers  are  the  greatest  nuisance  in  the  state. 

"  Yesterday  I  visited  several  factories.  I  was  pleased  with  the  industry 
and  severe  economy  which  pervaded  those  establishments.  Should  the  win- 
try weather  continue  severe,  I  do  not  think  that  the  $25,000  a  month,  which 
the  Minister  of  the  Interior  grants  for  the  purposes  of  charity,  will  be  suffi- 
cient. It  will  be  necessary  to  add  five  thousand  dollars  for  the  distribution 
of  wood,  and  also  to  light  fires  in  the  churches  and  other  large  buildings  to 
give  warmth  to  a  great  number  of  people." 

Napoleon  arrived  in  Paris  on  the  31st  of  January.  In  the  mean  time, 
there  had  been  a  new  election  of  members  of  the  Tribunate  and  of  the  leg- 
islative body.  All  those  who  had  manifested  any  opposition  to  the  measures 
of  Napoleon  in  the  re-establishment  of  Christianity  and  in  the  adoption  of 
the  new  civil  code  were  left  out,  and  their  places  supplied  by  those  who  ap- 
proved of  the  measures  of  the  First  Consul.  Napoleon  could  now  act  unem- 
barrassed. In  every  quarter  there  was  submission.  All  the  officers  of  the 
state,  immediately  upon  his  return,  sought  an  audience,  and,  in  that  pomp 
of  language  which  his  majestic  deeds  arid  character  inspired,  presented  to 
him  their  congratulations.  He  was  already  a  sovereign,  in  possession  of  re- 
gal power  such  as  no  other  monarch  in  Europe  enjoyed. 

Upon  one  object  all  the  energies  of  his  mighty  mind  were  concentrated. 
France  was  his  estate,  his  diadem,  his  all.  The  glory  of  France  was  his 
glory,  the  happiness  of  France  his  happiness,  the  riches  of  France  his  wealth 
Never  did  a  father,  with  more  untiring  self-denial  and  toil,  labor  for  his  fami- 
ly, than  did  Napoleon,  through  days  of  exertion  and  nights  of  sleeplessness, 
devote  every  energy  of  body  and  soul  to  the  greatness  of  France.  He  loved 
not  ease,  lie  loved  not  personal  indulgence,  he  loved  not  sensual  gratifica- 


1802.]  FIRST  CONSUL  FOR  LIFE.  381 

tion.  The  elevation  of  France  to  prosperity,  wealth,  and  power  was  a  lim- 
itless ambition.  The  almost  supernatural  success  which  had  thus  far  attend- 
ed his  exertions  did  but  magnify  his  desires  and  stimulate  his  hopes.  He 
had  no  wish  to  elevate  France  upon  the  ruins  of  other  nations.  But  he 
wished  to  make  France  the  pattern  of  all  excellence,  the  illustrious  leader  at 
the  head  of  all  nations,  guiding  them  to  intelligence,  to  opulence,  and  to 
happiness.  Such,  at  this  time,  was  the  towering  ambition  of  Napoleon,  the 
most  noble  and  comprehensive  which  was  ever  embraced  by  the  conception 
of  man. 

Of  course,  such  ambition  was  not  consistent  with  the  equality  of  other  na- 
tions, for  he  determined  that  France  should  be  the  first.  But  he  manifested 
no  disposition  to  destroy  the  happiness  of  others ;  he  only  wished  to  give 
such  an  impulse  to  humanity  in  France,  by  the  culture  of  mind,  by  purity 
of  morals,  by  domestic  industry,  by  foreign  commerce,  by  great  national 
works,  as  to  place  France  in  the  advance  upon  the  race-course  of  greatness. 

In  this  race  Fran.ce  had  but  one  antagonist — England.  France  had  near- 
ly forty  millions  of  inhabitants.  The  island  of  Great  Britain  contained  but 
about  fifteen  millions.  But  England,  with  her  colonies,  girdled  the  globe, 
and,  with  her  fleets,  commanded  all  seas. 

"  France,"  said  Napoleon,  "  must  also  have  her  colonies  and  her  fleets." 

"  If  we  permit  that,"  the  statesmen  of  England  rejoined,  "we  may  become 
a  secondary  power,  and  may  thus  be  at  the  mercy  of  France." 

It  was  undeniably  so.  Shall  history  be  blind  to  such  fatality  as  this  ?  Is 
man,  in  the  hour  of  triumphant  ambition,  so  moderate  that  we  can  be  will- 
ing that  he  should  attain  power  which  places  us  at  his  mercy  ?  England 
was  omnipotent  upon  the  seas.  She  became  arrogant  and  abused  that  pow- 
er, and  made  herself  offensive  to  all  nations.  Napoleon  developed  no  spe- 
cial meekness  of  character  to  indicate  that  he  would  be,  in  the  pride  of 
strength  which  no  nation  could  resist,  more  moderate  and  conciliating.  Can- 
dor can  not  censure  England  for  being  unwilling  to  yield  her  high  position — 
to  surrender  her  supremacy  on  the  seas — to  become  a  secondary  power — to 
allow  France  to  become  her  master.  And  who  can  censure  France  for  seek- 
ing the  establishment  of  colonies,  the  extension  of  commerce,  friendly  al- 
liance with  other  nations,  and  the  creation  of  fleets  to  protect  her  from  ag- 
gression upon  the  ocean  as  well  as  upon  the  land  ? 

Napoleon  himself,  with  that  wonderful  magnanimity  which  ever  charac- 
terized him,  though  at  times  exasperated  by  the  hostility  which  he  now  en- 
countered, yet  often  spoke  in  terms  of  respect  of  the  influences  which  ani- 
mated his  foes.  It  is  to  be  regretted  that  his  antagonists  so  seldom  recipro- 
cated this  magnanimity.  There  was,  in  this  sanguinary  conflict,  most  cer- 
tainly a  right  and  a  wrong.  But  it  is  not  easy  for  man  accurately  to  adjust 
the  balance.  God  alone  can  award  the  issue.  The  mind  is  saddened  as  it 
wanders  amid  the  labyrinths  of  conscientiousness  and  of  passion,  of  pure  mo- 
tives and  of  impure  ambition.  This  is,  indeed,  a  fallen  world.  The  drama 
of  nations  is  a  tragedy.  Melancholy  is  the  lot  of  man. 

England  daily  witnessed,  with  increasing  alarm,  the  rapid  and  enormous 
strides  which  France  was  making.  The  energy  of  the  First  Consul  seemed 
superhuman.  His  acts  indicated  the  most  profound  sagacitv,  the  most  for- 
VOL.  II.— F 


382  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.  [CHAP.  XXIV. 

reaching  foresight.  To-day  the  news  reaches  London  that  Napoleon  has 
been  elected  President  of  the  Italian  Republic.  Thus,  in  an  hour,  five  mill- 
ions of  people  are  added  to  his  empire  !  To-morrow  it  is  announced  that  he 
is  establishing  a  colony  at  Elba — that  a  vast  expedition  is  sailing  for  St.  Do- 
mingo, to  re-organize  the  colony  there.  England  is  bewildered.  Again  it  is 
proclaimed  that  Napoleon  has  purchased  Louisiana  of  Spain,  and  is  prepar- 
ing to  fill  the  fertile  valley  of  the  Mississippi  with  colonists.  In  the  mean 
time,  all  France  is  in  a  state  of  activity.  Factories,  roads,  bridges,  canals, 
fortifications,  are  every  where  springing  into  existence.  The  sound  of  the 
ship-hammer  reverberates  in  all  the  harbors  of  France,  and  every  month  wit- 
nesses the  increase  of  the  French  fleet.  The  mass  of  the  English  people 
contemplate  with  admiration  this  development  of  energy.  .The  statesmen  of 
England  contemplate  it  with  dread. 

For  some  months  Napoleon,  in  the  midst  of  all  his  other  cares,  had  been 
maturing  a  vast  system  of  public  instruction  for  the 'youth  of  France.  He 
drew  up,  with  his  own  hand,  the  plan  for  their  schools,  and  proposed  the 
course  of  study.  It  is  a  little  singular  that,  with  his  strong  scientific  predi- 
lections, he  should  have  assigned  the  first  rank  to  classical  studies.  Perhaps 
this  is  to  be  accounted  for  from  his  professed  admiration  of  the  heroes  of  an- 
tiquity. His  own  mind  was  thoroughly  stored  with  all  the  treasures  of 
Greek  and  Roman  story.  All  these  schools  were  formed  upon  a  military 
model,  for,  situated  as  France  was  in  the  midst  of  monarchies  at  heart  hos- 
tile, he  deemed  it  necessary  that  the  nation  should  be  universally  trained  to 
bear  arms.  Religious  instruction  was  to  be  communicated  in  all  these 
schools  by  chaplains,  military  instruction  by  old  officers  who  had  left  the 
army,  and  classical  and  scientific  instruction  by  the  most  learned  men  Eu- 
rope could  furnish. 

The  First  Consul  also  devoted  special  attention  to  female  schools.  "  France 
needs  nothing  so  much  to  promote  her  regeneration,"  said  he,  "  as  good 
mothers."  To  attract  the  youth  of  France  to  these  schools,  one  million  of 
dollars  was  appropriated  for  over  six  thousand  gratuitous  exhibitions  for  the 
pupils.  Ten  schools  of  law  were  established,  nine  schools  of  medicine,  and 
an  institution  for  the  mechanical  arts,  called  the  "  School  of  Bridges  and 
Roads,"  the  first  model  of  those  schools  of  art  which  continue  in  France  un- 
til the  present  day,  and  which  are  deemed  invaluable.  There  were  no  ex- 
clusive privileges  in  these  institutions  ;  a  system  of  perfect  equality  pervaded 
them.  The  pupils  of  all  classes  were  placed  upon  a  level,  with  an  unob- 
structed arena  before  them.  "  This  is  only  a  commencement,"  said  Napo- 
leon ;  "  by-and-by  we  shall  do  more  and  better." 

Another  project  which  Napoleon  now  introduced  was  vehemently  opposed 
— the  establishment  of  the  Legion  of  Honor.  One  of  the  leading  principles 
of  the  Revolution  was  the  entire  overthrow  of  all  titles  of  distinction.  Every 
man,  high  or  low,  was  to  be  addressed  simply  as  Citizen.  Napoleon  wished 
to  introduce  a  system  of  rewards  which  should  stimulate  to  heroic  deeds,  and 
ennoble  those  who  had  deserved  well  of  humanity.  Innumerable  foreigners 
of  distinction  had  thronged  France  since  the  peace.  He  had  observed  with 
what  eagerness  the  populace  had  followed  these  foreigners,  gazing  with  de- 
light upon  their  gay  decorations.  The  court-yard  of  the  Tuileries  was  ever 


1802.]  FIRST  CONSUL  FOR  LIFE.  393 

crowded  when  these  illustrious  strangers  arrived  and  departed.  Napoleon, 
in  his  council,  where  he  was  always  eloquent  and  powerful,  thus  urged  his 
views : 

"  Look  at  these  vanities  which  genius  pretends  so  much  to  disdain.  The 
populace  is  not  of  that  opinion.  It  loves  these  many-colored  ribbons  as  it 
loves  religious  pomp.  The  democrat  philosopher  calls  it  vanity.  Vanity 
let  it  be  ;  but  that  vanity  is  a  weakness  common  to  the  whole  human  race, 
and  great  virtues  may  be  made  to  spring  from  it.  With  these  so  much  de- 
spised baubles  heroes  are  made.  There  must  be  worship  for  the  religious 
sentiment ;  there  must  be  visible  distinctions  for  the  noble  sentiment  of  glory 
Nations  should  not  strive  to  be  singular  any  more  than  individuals.  The  af- 
fectation of  acting  differently  from  the  rest  of  the  world  is  an  affectation 
wrhich  is  reproved  by  all  persons  of  sense  and  modesty  Ribbons  are  in  use 
in  all  countries.  Let  them  be  in  use  in  France.  It  will  be  one  more  friend- 
ly relation  established  with  Europe.  Our  neighbors  give  them  only  to  the 
man  of  noble  birth.  I  will  give  them  to  the  man  of  merit — to  the  one  who 
shall  have  served  best  in  the  army  or  in  the  state,  or  who  shall  have  pro- 
duced the  finest  works." 

It  was  objected  that  the  institution  of  the  Legion  of  Honor  was  a  return 
to  the  aristocracy  which  the  Revolution  had  abolished.  "  What  is  there  aris- 
tocratic," Napoleon  exclaimed,  "  in  a  distinction  purely  personal,  and  merely 
for  life,  bestowed  on  the  man  who  has  displayed  merit,  whether  civil  or  mil- 
itary— bestowed  on  him  alone,  bestowed  for  his  life  only,  and  not  passing  to 
his  children.  Such  a  distinction  is  the  reverse  of  aristocratic.  It  is  the  es- 
sence of  aristocracy  that  its  titles  are  transmitted  from  the  man  who  has 
earned  them  to  the  son  who  possesses  no  merit.  The  ancient  regime,  so 
battered  by  the  ram  of  the  Revolution,  is  more  entire  than  is  believed.  All 
the  emigrants  hold  each  other  by  the  hand ;  the  Vende'eans  are  secretly  en- 
rolled ;  the  priests,  at  heart,  are  not  very  friendly  to  us.  With  the  words 
'  legitimate  king,' thousands  might  be  roused  to  arms.  It  is  needful  that  the 
men  who  have  taken  part  in  the  Revolution  should  have  a  bond  of  union,  and 
cease  to  depend  on  the  first  accident  which  might  strike  one  single  head 
For  ten  years  we  have  only  been  making  ruins  ;  we  must  now  found  an  edi- 
fice. Depend  upon  it,  the  struggle  is  not  over  with  Europe.  Be  assured 
that  struggle  will  begin  again." 

It  was  then  urged  by  some  that  the  Legion  of  Honor  should  be  confined 
entirely  to  military  merit.  "  By  no  means,"  said  Napoleon.  "  Rewards  are 
not  to  be  conferred  upon  soldiers  alone.  All  sorts  of  merit  are  brothers. 
The  courage  of  the«president  of  the  Convention  resisting  the  populace,  should 
be  compared  with  the  courage  of  Kleber  mounting  to  the  assault  of  Acre. 
It  is  right  that  civil  virtues  should  have  their  reward  as  well  as  military  vir- 
tues. Those  who  oppose  this  course  reason  like  barbarians.  It  is  the  re- 
ligion of  brute  force  they  commend  to  us.  Intelligence  has  its  rights  before 
those  of  force.  Force,  without  intelligence,  is  nothing.  In  barbarous  ages, 
the  man  of  stoutest  sinews  was  the  chieftain  ;  now,  the  general  is  the  most 
intelligent  of  the  brave. 

"  At  Cairo,  the  Egyptians  could  not  comprehend  how  it  was  that  Kleber, 
«rith  his  majestic  form,  was  not  commander-in-chief.  When  Mourad  Bey 


384  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.  [CHAP.  XXIV. 

had  carefully  observed  our  tactics,  he  could  comprehend  how  it  was  that  I, 
and  no  other,  ought  to  be  the  general  of  an  army  so  conducted.  You  reason 
like  the  Egyptians  when  you  attempt  to  confine  rewards  to  military  valor. 
The  soldiers  reason  better  than  you.  Go  to  their  bivouacs  ;  listen  to  them. 
Do  you  imagine  that  it  is  the  tallest  of  their  officers,  and  the  most  imposing 
by  his  stature,  for  whom  they  feel  the  highest  regard  ?  Do  you  imagine 
even  that  the  bravest  stands  first  in  their  esteem  ?  No  doubt  they  would 
despise  the  man  whose  courage  they  suspected ;  but  they  rank  above  the 
merely  brave  man  him  whom  they  consider  the  most  intelligent. 

"  As  for  myself,  do  you  suppose  that  it  is  solely  because  I  am  reputed  a 
great  general  that  I  rule  France  ?  No !  It  is  because  the  qualities  of  a 
statesman  and  magistrate  are  attributed  to  me.  France  will  never  tolerate 
the  government  of  the  sword.  Those  who  think  so  are  strangely  mistaken. 
It  would  require  an  abject  servitude  of  fifty  years  before  that  could  be  the 
case.  France  is  too  noble,  too  intelligent  a  country  to  submit  to  material 
power.  Let  us  honor  intelligence,  virtue,  the  civil  qualities  ;  in  short,  let  us 
bestow  upon  them,  in  all  professions,  the  like  reward." 

The  true  spirit  of  republicanism  is  certainly  equality  of  rights,  not  of  at- 
tainments and  honors  ;  the  abolition  of  hereditary  distinctions  and  privileges, 
not  of  those  which  are  founded  upon  merit.  The  badge  of  the  Legion  of 
Honor  was  to  be  conferred  upon  all  who,  by  genius,  self-denial,  and  toil,  had 
won  renown.  The  prizes  were  open  to  the  humblest  peasant  in  the  land. 
Still,  the  popular  hostility  to  any  institution  which  bore  a  resemblance  to  the 
aristocracy  of  the  ancient  nobility  was  so  strong,  that,  though  a  majority 
voted  in  favor  of  the  measure,  there  was  a  strong  opposition.  Napoleon 
was  surprised.  He  said  to  Bourrienne, 

"You  are  right.  Prejudices  are  still  against  me.  I  ought  to  have  waited. 
There  was  no  occasion  for  haste  in  bringing  it  forward.  But  the  thing  is 
done  ;  and  you  will  soon  find  that  the  taste  for  these  distinctions  is  not  yet 
gone  by.  It  is  a  taste  which  belongs  to  the  nature  of  man.  You  will  see 
that  extraordinary  results  will  arise  from  it." 

The  order  was  to  consist  of  six  thousand  members.  It  was  constituted 
in  four  ranks  :  grand  officers,  commanders,  officers,  and  private  legionaries. 
The  badge  was  simply  a  red  ribbon  in  the  button-hole.  To  the  first  rank 
there  was  allotted  an  annual  salary  of  $1000;  to  the  second,  $400;  to  the 
third,  $200 ;  to  the  fourth,  $50.  The  private  soldier,  the  retired  scholar, 
and  the  skillful  artist  were  thus  decorated  with  the  same  badge  of  distinc- 
tion which  figured  upon  the  breasts  of  generals,  nobles,  and  monarchs.  That 
this  institution  wras  peculiarly  adapted  to  the  state  of  France,  is  evident 
from  the  fact  that  it  has  survived  all  the  revolutions  of  subsequent  years. 
"Though  of  such  recent  origin,"  says  Thiers,  "it  is  already  consecrated  as 
if  it  had  passed  through  centuries  ;  to  such  a  degree  has  it  become  the  rec- 
ompense of  heroism,  of  knowledge,  of  merit  of  every  kind — so  much  have  its 
honors  been  coveted  by  the  grandees  and  the  princes  of  Europe  the  most 
proud  of  their  origin."* 

*  The  oath  administered  to  those  who  received  the  cross  of  the  Legion  of  Honor  was  as  follows : 
"  I  swear,  on  my  honor,  to  devote  myself  to  the  service  of  the  Republic,  to  the  preservation  of  th« 
integrity  of  its  territory,  to  the  defense  of  its  government,  its  lawb,  and  the  property  by  them  con. 


1802.] 


FIRST  CONSUL  FOR  LIFE. 


385 


The  popularity  of  Napoleon  was  now  unbounded.  A  very  general  and 
earnest  disposition  was  expressed  to  confer  upon  the  First  Consul  a  magnifi- 
cent testimonial  of  the  national  gratitude — a  testimonial  worthy  of  the  illus- 
trious man  who  was  to  receive  it,  and  of  the  powerful  nation  by  which  it  was 
to  be  bestowed.  The  President  of  the  Tribunal  thus  addressed  that  body: 

"Among  all  nations,  public  honors  have  been  decreed  to  men  who,  by 
splendid  actions,  have  honored  their  country,  and  saved  it  from  great  dangers 
What  man  ever  had  stronger  claims  to  the  national  gratitude  than  General 
Bonaparte  ?  His  valor  and  genius  have  saved  the  French  people  from  the 
excesses  of  anarchy  and  from  the  miseries  of  war  ;  and  France  is  too  great, 
too  magnanimous,  to  leave  such  benefits  without  reward." 

A  deputation  was  immediately  chosen  to  confer  with  Napoleon  upon  the 
subject  of  the  tribute  of  gratitude  and  affection  which  he  should  receive. 
Surrounded  by  his  colleagues  and  the  principal  officers  of  the  state,  he  re- 
ceived them  the  next  day  in  the  Tuileries.  With  seriousness  and  modesty 
he  listened  to  the  high  eulogium  upon  his  achievements  which  was  pro- 
nounced, and  then  replied : 

"  I  receive  with  sincere  gratitude  the  wish  expressed  by  the  Tribunate. 
I  desire  no  other  glory  than  that  of  having  completely  performed  the  task 
imposed  upon  me.  I  aspire  to  no  other  reward  than  the  affection  of  my  fel- 
low-citizens. I  shall  be  happy  if  they  are  thoroughly  convinced  that  the 


RECEPTION    AT   THE    TUILERIES. 


evils  which  they  may  experience  will  always  be  to  me  the  severest  of  mis- 
fortunes ;  that  life  is  dear  to  me  solely  for  the  services  which  I  am  able  to  ren- 
der to  my  country ;  that  death  itself  will  have  no  bitterness  for  me,  if  my  last 
looks  can  see  the  happiness  of  the  Republic  as  firmly  secured  as  is  its  glory." 

eecrated  ;  to  oppose,  by  every  means  which  justice,  reason,  and  the  laws  authorize,  all  acts  tending 
to  re-establish  the  feudal  system,  or  to  revive  the  titles  and  distinctions  belonging  to  it ;  finally,  to 
contribute,  to  the  utmost  of  my  power,  to  the  maintenance  oi'  liberty  and  equality."  After  the  es- 
tablishment of  the  Empire,  the  oath  was  slightly  changed  to  meet  the  new  order  of  things. 


386  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.  [CHAP.  XXIV. 

But  how  was  Napoleon  to  be  rewarded  ?  That  was  the  great  and  difficult 
question.  Was  wealth  to  be  conferred  upon  him  ?  For  wealth  he  cared 
nothing.  Millions  had  been  at  his  disposal,  and  he  had  emptied  them  all 
into  the  treasury  of  France.  Ease,  luxury,  self-indulgence  had  no  charms 
for  him.  Were  monuments  to  be  reared  to  his  honor,  titles  to  be  lavished 
upon  his  name  ?  Napoleon  regarded  these  but  as  means  for  the  accomplish- 
ment of  ends.  In  themselves  they  were  nothing.  The  only  one  thing  which 
he  desired  was  power — power  to  work  out  vast  results  for  others,  and  thus 
to  secure  for  himself  renown  which  should  be  pure  and  imperishable. 

But  how  could  the  power  of  Napoleon  be  increased  ?  He  was  already 
almost  absolute.  Whatever  he  willed,  he  accomplished.  Senators,  legis- 
lators, and  tribunes  all  co-operated  in  giving  energy  to  his  plans.  It  will 
be  remembered  that  Napoleon  was  elected  First  Consul  for  ten  years.  It 
seemed  that  there  was  absolutely  nothing  which  could  be  done,  gratifying  to 
the  First  Consul,  but  to  prolong  the  term  of  his  consulship,  by  either  adding 
to  it  another  period  of  ten  years,  or  by  continuing  it  during  his  life.  "What 
does  he  wish?"  was  the  universal  inquiry.  Every  possible  means  were  tried, 
but  in  vain,  to  obtain  a  single  word  from  his  lips  significant  of  his  desires. 

One  of  the  senators  went  to  Cambaceres  and  said,  "What  would  be  grat- 
ifying to  General  Bonaparte  ?  Does  he  wish  to  be  king  ?  Only  let  him  say 
so,  and  we  are  ready  to  vote  for  the  re-establishment  of  royalty.  Most  will- 
ingly will  we  do  it  for  him,  for  he  is  worthy  of  that  station." 

But  the  First  Consul  shut  amself  up  in  impenetrable  reserve.  Even  his 
most  intimate  friends  could  catch  no  glimpse  of  his  secret  wishes.  At  last 
the  question  was  plainly  and  earnestly  put  to  him. 

With  great  apparent  humility,  he  replied,  "  I  have  not  fixed  my  mind 
upon  any  thing.  Any  testimony  of  the  public  confidence  will  be  sufficient 
for  me,  and  will  fill  me  with  satisfaction." 

The  question  was  then  discussed  whether  to  add  ten  years  to  his  consul* 
ship,  or  to  make  him  First  Consul  for  life.  Cambaceres  knew  well  the 
boundless  ambition  of  Napoleon,  and  was  fully  conscious  that  any  limited 
period  of  power  would  not  be  in  accordance  with  his  plans.  He  ventured 
to  say  to  him, 

"You  are  wrong  not  to  explain  yourself.  Your  enemies — for,  notwith- 
standing your  services,  you  have  some  left  even  in  the  Senate — will  abuse 
your  reserve." 

Napoleon  calmly  replied,  "  Let  them  alone.  The  majority  of  the  Senate 
ie  always  ready  to  do  more  than  it  is  asked.  They  will  go  further  than  you 
imagine." 

On  the  evening  of  the  8th  of  May,  1802,  the  resolution  was  adopted  of 
prolonging  the  powers  of  the  First  Consul  for  ten  years.  Napoleon  was 
probably  surprised  and  disappointed.  He,  however,  decided  to  return  a 
grateful  answer,  and  to  say  that  not  from  the  Senate,  but  from  the  suffrages 
of  the  people  alone,  could  he  accept  a  prolongation  of  that  power  to  which 
their  voices  had  elevated  him.  The  following  answer  was  transmitted  to 
the  Senate  the  next  morning : 

"  The  honorable  proof  of  your  esteem,  given  in  your  deliberation  of  the 
8th,  will  remain  forever  engraven  on  my  heart.  In  the  three  years  which 


1802.] 


FIRST  CONSUL  FOR  LIFE. 


387 


have  just  elapsed,  fortune  has  smiled  upon  the  Kepublic.  But  fortune  is 
fickle.  How  many  men  whom  she  has  loaded  with  favors  have  lived  a  few 
years  too  long.  The  interest  of  my  glory  and  that  of  my  happiness  would 
seem  to  have  marked  the  term  of  my  public  life  at  the  moment  when  the 
peace  of  the  world  is  proclaimed ;  but  the  glory  and  the  happiness  of  the 
citizen  ought  to  be  silent  when  the  interest  of  the  state  and  the  public  par- 
tiality call  him.  You  judge  that  I 'owe  a  new  sacrifice  to  the  people.  I 
will  make  it,  if  the  wishes  of  the  people  command  what  your  suffrage  au- 
thorizes." 

Napoleon  immediately  left  Paris  for  his  country  seat  at  Malmaison.  This 
beautiful  chateau  was  about  twelve  miles  from  the  metropolis.  Josephine 
had  purchased  the  peaceful  rural  retreat  at  Napoleon's  request,  during  his 


MALMAISON. 


first  Italian  campaign.  Subsequently,  large  sums  had  been  expended  in  en- 
larging and  improving  the  grounds,  and  it  was  ever  the  favorite  residence  of 
both  Napoleon  and  Josephine.  Cambaceres  called  an  extraordinary  meet- 
ing of  the  Council  of  State.  After  much  deliberation,  it  was  resolved,  by  an 


388  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.  [CHAP.  XXIV. 

immense  majority,  that  the  following  proposition  should  be  submitted  to  the 
people  :  "  Shall  Napoleon  Bonaparte  be  First  Consul  for  life  ?"  It  was  then 
resolved  to  submit  a  second  question :  "  Shall  the  First  Consul  have  the 
power  of  appointing  his  successor  ?"  This  was,  indeed,  re-establishing  monx 
archy  under  a  republican  name. 

Cambaceres  immediately  repaired  to  Malmaison  to  submit  these  resolu- 
tions to  Napoleon.     To  the  amazement  of  all,  he  immediately  and  firmly  re 
jected  the  second  question.     Energetically  he  said, 

"  Whom  would  you  have  me  appoint  my  successor  ?  My  brothers  ?  But 
will  France,  which  has  consented  to  be  governed  by  me,  consent  to  be  gov- 
erned by  Joseph  or  Lucien?  Shall  I  nominate  you  consul,  Cambaceres? 
You  ?  Dare  you  undertake  such  a  task  ?  And  then  the  will  of  Louis  XIV. 
was  not  respected ;  is  it  likely  that  mine  would  be  ?  A  dead  man,  let  him 
be  who  he  will,  is  nobody."  In  opposition  to  all  urgency,  he  ordered  the 
second  question  to  be  erased,  and  the  first  only  to  be  submitted  to  the  peo- 
ple. It  is  impossible  to  divine  the  motive  which  influenced  Napoleon  in  this 
most  unexpected  decision.  Some  have  supposed  that  even  then  he  had  in 
view  the  Empire  and  the  hereditary  monarchy,  and  that  he  wished  to  leave 
a  chasm  in  the  organization  of  the  government  as  a  reason  for  future  change. 
Others  have  supposed  that  he  dreaded  the  rivalries  which  would  arise  among 
his  brothers  and  his  nephews  from  his  having  at  his  disposal  so  resplendent 
a  gift  as  the  Empire  of  France.  But  the  historian  treads  upon  dangerous 
ground  when  he  begins  to  judge  of  motives.  That  which  Napoleon  actually 
did  was  moderate  and  noble  in  the  highest  degree.  He  declined  the  power 
of  appointing  his  successor,  and  submitted  his  election  to  the  suffrages  of  the 
people.  A  majority  of  3,568,885  voted  for  the  consulate  for  life,  and  only 
eight  thousand  and  a  few  hundreds  against  it.  Never  before  or  since  was 
an  earthly  government  established  by  such  unanimity.  Never  had  a  mon- 
arch a  more  indisputable  title  to  his  throne. 

Upon  this  occasion  La  Fayette  added  to  his  vote  these  qualifying  words : 
"  I  can  not  vote  for  such  a  magistracy  until  public  freedom  is  sufficiently 
guaranteed.  When  that  is  done,  I  give  my  voice  to  Napoleon  Bonaparte." 
In  a  private  conversation  with  the  First  Consul,  he  added,  "  A  free  govern- 
ment, and  you  at  its  head — that  comprehends  all  my  desires."  Napoleon 
remarked,  "In  theory,  La  Fayette  is  perhaps  right.  But  what  is  theory? 
A  mere  dream  when  applied  to  the  masses  of  mankind.  He  thinks  he  is 
still  in  the  United  States — as  if  the  French  were  Americans.  He  has  no  con- 
ception of  what  is  required  for  this  country." 

A  day  was  fixed  for  a  grand  diplomatic  festival,  when  Napoleon  should 
receive  the  congratulations  of  the  constituted  authorities  and  of  the  foreign 
embassadors.  The  soldiers,  in  brilliant  uniform,  formed  a  double  line  from 
the  Tuileries  to  the  Luxembourg.  The  First  Consul  was  seated  in  a  mag- 
nificent chariot  drawn  by  eight  horses.  A  cortege  of  gorgeous  splendor  ac- 
companied him.  All  Paris  thronged  the  streets  through  which  he  passed, 
and  the  most  enthusiastic  applause  rent  the  heavens.  To  the  congratulatory 
address  of  the  Senate,  Napoleon  replied  : 

"  The  life  of  a  citizen  belongs  to  his  country.  The  French  nation  wishes 
that  mine  should  be  wholly  consecrated  to  France.  I  obey  its  will.  Through 


1802.] 


FIRST  CONSUL  FOR  LIFE. 


389 


ELECTION    OF    CONSUL   FOR    LIFE. 


my  efforts,  by  your  assistance,  citizen  senators,  by  the  aid  of  the  authorities, 
and  by  the  confidence  and  support  of  this  mighty  people,  the  liberty,  equal- 
ity, and  prosperity  of  France  will  be  rendered  secure  against  the  caprices  of 
fate  and  the  uncertainty  of  futurity.  The  most  virtuous  of  nations  will  be 
the  most  happy,  as  it  deserves  to  be ;  and  its  felicity  will  contribute  to  the 
general  happiness  of  all  Europe.  Proud,  then,  of  being  thus  called,  by  the 
command  of  that  Power  from  which  every  thing  emanates,  to  bring  back 
order,  justice,  and  equality  to  the  earth,  when  my  last  hour  approaches,  1 
shall  yield  myself  up  with  resignation,  and  without  any  solicitude  respecting 
the  opinions  of  future  generations." 

On  the  following  day,  the  new  articles  modifying  the  Constitution  in  ac- 
cordance with  the  change  in  the  consulship  were  submitted  to  the  Council 
of  State.  The  First  Consul  presided,  and,  with  his  accustomed  vigor  and 
perspicuity,  explained  the  reasons  of  each  article,  as  he  recounted  them  one 
by  one.  The  articles  contained  the  provision  that  Napoleon  should  nomi- 


390  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.          [CHAP.  XXIV. 

nate  his  successor  to  the  Senate.  To  this,  after  a  slight  resistance,  he  yield- 
ed. The  most  profound  satisfaction  now  pervaded  France.  Even  Josephine 
began  to  be  tranquil  and  happy.  She  imagined  that  all  thoughts  of  royalty 
and  of  hereditary  succession  had  now  passed  away.  She  contemplated 
with  no  uneasiness  the  power  which  Napoleon  possessed  of  choosing  his 
successor.  Napoleon  sympathized  cordially  with  her  in  her  high  gratifica- 
tion that  Hortense  was  soon  to  become  a  mother.  This  child  was  already, 
in  their  hearts,  the  selected  heir  to  the  power  of  Napoleon. 

On  the  15th  of  August,  Paris  magnificently  celebrated  the  anniversary  of 
the  birth-day  of  the  First  Consul.  This  was  another  introduction  of  mo- 
narchical usages.  All  the  high  authorities  of  the  Church  and  the  state,  and 
the  foreign  diplomatic  bodies,  called  upon  him  with  congratulations.  At 
noon,  in  all  the  churches  of  the  metropolis,  a  Te  Deum  was  sung,  in  grati- 
tude to  God  for  the  gift  of  Napoleon.  At  night  the  city  blazed  with  illumi- 
nations. The  splendors  and  the  etiquette  of  royalty  were  now  rapidly  in- 
troduced, and  the  same  fickle  populace,  who  had  so  recently  trampled  princes 
and  thrones  into  blood  and  ruin,  were  now  captivated  with  the  reintroduction 
of  these  discarded  splendors.  Napoleon  soon  established  himself  in  the 
beautiful  chateau  of  St.  Cloud,  which  he  had  caused  to  be  repaired  with  great 
magnificence. 

On  the  Sabbath,  the  First  Consul,  with  Josephine,  invariably  attended  di- 
vine service.  Their  example  was  soon  followed  by  most  of  the  members  of 
the  court,  and  the  nation  as  a  body  returned  to  Christianity,  which,  even  in 
its  most  corrupt  form,  saves  humanity  from  those  abysses  of  degradation  into 
which  infidelity  plunges  it.  Immediately  after  divine  service  he  conversed 
in  the  gallery  of  the  chateau  with  the  visitors  who  were  then  waiting  for  him. 
The  brilliance  of  his  intellect,  and  his  high  renown,  caused  him  to  be  ap- 
proached with  emotions  of  awe.  His  words  were  listened  to  with  intensest 
eagerness.  He  was  the  exclusive  object  of  observation  and  attention.  No 
earthly  potentate  had  ever  attained  such  a  degree  of  homage,  pure  and  sin- 
cere, as  now  circled  around  the  First  Consul. 

Napoleon  was  very  desirous  of  having  his  court  a  model  of  decorum  and 
of  morals.  Lucien  owned  a  beautiful  mansion  near  Neuilly.  Upon  one  oc- 
casion he  invited  Napoleon,  and  all  the  inmates  of  Malmaison,  to  attend 
some  private  theatricals  at  his  dwelling.  Lucien  and  Eliza  were  the  per- 
formers in  a  piece  called  Alzire.  The  ardor  of  their  declamation,  the  free- 
dom of  their  gestures,  and,  above  all,  the  indelicacy  of  the  costume  which 
they  assumed,  displeased  Napoleon  exceedingly.  As  soon  as  the  play  was 
over,  .he  exclaimed, 

"  It  is  a  scandal.  I  ought  not  to  suffer  such  indecencies.  I  will  give  Lu- 
cien to  understand  that  I  will  have  no  more  of  it."  As  soon  as  Lucien  entered 
the  saloon,  having  resumed  his  usual  dress,  Napoleon  addressed  him  before 
the  whole  company,  and  requested  him  in  future  to  desist  from  all  such  rep- 
resentations. "What !"  said  he,  "when  I  am  endeavoring  to  restore  purity 
of  manners,  my  brother  and  sister  must  needs  exhibit  themselves  upon  a 
platform  almost  in  a  state  of  nudity !  It  is  an  insult !" 

One  day  at  this  time,  Bourrienne,  going  from  Malmaison  to  Ruel,  lost  a 
beautiful  watch.  He  proclaimed  his  less  by  means  of  the  bellman  at  Ruel. 


1802.]  FIRST  CONSUL  FOR  LIFE.  39j 

An  hour  after,  as  he  was  sitting  down  to  dinner,  a  peasant  boy  brought  him 
the  watch,  which  he  had  found  on  the  road.  Napoleon  heard  of  the  occur- 
rence. Immediately  he  instituted  inquiries  respecting  the  young  man  and 
the  family.  Hearing  a  good  report  of  them,  he  gave  the  three  brothers  em- 
ployment, and  amply  rewarded  the  honest  lad.  "  Kindness,"  says  Bourri- 
enne,  "was  a  very  prominent  trait  in  the  character  of  Napoleon." 

If  we  now  take  a  brief  review  of  what  Napoleon  had  accomplished  since 
his  return  from  Egypt,  it  must  be  admitted  that  the  records  of  the  world  are 
to  be  searched  in  vain  for  a  similar  recital.  No  mortal  man  before  ever  ac- 
complished so  much,  or  accomplished  it  so  well  in  so  short  a  time. 

Let  us  for  a  moment  return  to  his  landing  at  Frejus  on  the  8th  of  October, 
1799,  until  he  was  chosen  First  Consul  for  life,  in  August,  1802,  a  period  of 
not  quite  three  years.  Proceeding  to  Paris  almost  alone,  he  overthrew  the 
Directory  and  seized  the  supreme  power,  restored  order  into  the  adminis- 
tration of  government,  established  a  new  and  very  efficient  system  for  the 
collection  of  taxes,  raised  public  credit,  and  supplied  the  wants  of  the  suf- 
fering army.  By  great  energy  and  humanity  he  immediately  terminated  the 
horrors  of  that  unnatural  war  which  had  for  years  been  desolating  La  Ven- 
dee.. Condescending  to  the  attitude  of  a  suppliant,  he  implored  of  Europe 
peace. 

Europe  chose  war.  By  a  majestic  conception  of  military  combinations, 
he  sent  Moreau  with  a  vast  army  to  the  Rhine ;  stimulated  Massena  to  the 
most  desperate  strife  at  Genoa ;  and  then,  creating  as  by  magic  an  army 
from  materials  which  excited  but  the  ridicule  of  his  foes,  he  climbed,  with 
artillery  and  horse,  and  all  the  munitions  of  war,  the  icy  pinnacles  of  the 
Alps,  and  fell  like  an  avalanche  upon  his  foes  on  the  plain  of  Marengo. 
With  far  inferior  numbers,  he  snatched  the  victory  from  the  victors  ;  and  in 
the  exultant  hour  of  the  most  signal  conquest,  wrote  again  from  the  field  of 
blood  imploring  peace.  His  foes,  humbled  and  at  his  mercy,  gladly  availed 
themselves  of  his  clemency,  and  promised  to  treat.  Perfidiously,  they  only 
sought  time  to  regain  their  strength.  He  then  sent  Moreau  to  Hohen- 
linden,  and  beneath  the  walls  of  Vienna  extorted  peace  from  Continental 
Europe. 

England  still  prosecuted  the  war.  The  First  Consul,  by  his  genius,  won 
the  heart  of  Paul  of  Russia,  secured  the  affection  of  Prussia,  Denmark,  and 
Sweden,  and  formed  a  league  of  all  Europe  against  the  Mistress  of  the  Seas. 
While  engaged  in  this  work,  he  paid  the  creditors  of  the  state,  established 
the  Bank  of  France,  overwhelmed  the  highway  robbers  with  utter  destruc- 
tion, and  restored  security  in  all  the  provinces  ;  cut  magnificent  communi- 
cations over  the  Alps,  founded  hospitals  on  their  summits,  surrounded  ex- 
posed cities  with  fortifications,  opened  canals,  constructed  bridges,  created 
magnificent  roads,  and  commenced  the  compilation  of  that  civil  code  which 
will  remain  an  ever-during  monument  of  his  labors  and  his  genius.  In  op- 
position to  the  remonstrances  of  his  best  friends,  he  re-established  Chris- 
tianity, and  with  it  proclaimed  perfect  liberty  of  conscience.  Public  works 
were  every  where  established  to  encourage  industry.  Schools  and  colleges 
Were  founded.  Merit  of  every  kind  was  stimulated  by  abundant  rewards. 

Vast  improvements  were  made  in  Paris,  and  the  streets  cleaned  and  irri- 


392  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.          [CHAP.  XXIV. 

gated.  In  the  midst  of  all  these  cares,  he  was  defending  France  against  the 
assaults  of  the  most  powerful  nation  on  the  globe  ;  and  he  was  preparing,  as 
his  last  resort,  a  vast  army,  to  carry  the  war  into  the  heart  of  England. 
Notwithstanding  the  most  atrocious  libels  with  which  England  was  filled 
against  him,  his  fame  shone  resplendent  through  them  all,  and  he  was  popular 
with  the  English  people.  Many  of  the  most  illustrious  of  the  English 
statesmen  advocated  his  cause.  His  gigantic  adversary,  William  Pitt,  van- 
quished by  the  genius  of  Napoleon,  was  compelled  to  retire  from  the  min- 
istry, and  the  world  was  at  peace. 

The  difficulties,  perplexities,  and  embarrassments  which  were  encountered 
in  these  enterprises  were  infinite.  Napoleon  says,  with  that  magnanimity 
which  history  should  recognize  and  applaud,  "We  are  told  that  all  the  First 
Consul  had  to  look  to  was  to  do  justice.  But  to  whom  was  he  to  do  jus- 
tice ?  To  the  proprietors  whom  the  Revolution  had  violently  despoiled  of 
their  properties,  for  this  only,  that  they  had  been  faithful  to  their  legitimate 
sovereign,  and  to  the  principle  of  honor  which  they  had  inherited  from  their 
ancestors,  or  to  those  new  proprietors  who  had  purchased  these  domains, 
adventuring  their  money  on  the  faith  of  laws  flowing  from  an  illegitimate 
authority  ?  Was  he  to  do  justice  to  those  Royalist  soldiers,  mutilated  in  the 
fields  of  Germany,  La  Vendee,  and  Quiberon,  arrayed  under  the  white  stand- 
ard of  the  Bourbons,  in  the  firm  belief  that  they  were  serving  the  cause  of 
their  king  against  a  usurping  tyranny,  or  to  the  million  of  citizens  who, 
forming  around  the  frontiers  a  wall  of  brass,  had  so  often  saved  their  coun- 
try from  the  inveterate  hostility  of  its  enemies,  and  had  borne  to  so  trans- 
cendent a  height  the  glory  of  the  French  eagle  ?  Was  he  to  do  justice  to 
that  clergy,  the  model  and  the  example  of  every  Christian  virtue,  stripped 
of  its  birthright,  the  reward  of  fifteen  hundred  years  of  benevolence,  or  to 
the  recent  acquirers,  who  had  converted  the  convents  into  work-shops,  the 
churches  into  warehouses,  and  had  turned  to  profane  uses  all  that  had  been 
deemed  most  holy  for  ages  ?" 

"At  this  period,"  says  Thiers,  "Napoleon  appeared  so  moderate  after 
having  been  so  victorious,  he  showed  himself  so  profound  a  legislator  after 
having  proved  himself  so  great  a  commander,  he  evinced  so  much  love  for 
the  arts  of  peace  after  having  excelled  in  the  arts  of  war,  that  well  might  he 
excite  illusions  in  France  and  in  the  world.  Only  some  few  among  the  per- 
sonages who  were  admitted  to  his  councils,  who  were  capable  of  judging 
futurity  by  the  present,  were  filled  with  as  much  anxiety  as  admiration  on 
witnessing  the  indefatigable  activity  of  his  mind  and  body,  and  the  energy 
of  his  will,  and  the  impetuosity  of  his  desires.  They  trembled  even  at  see- 
ing him  do  good  in  the  way  he  did — so  impatient  was  he  to  accomplish  it 
quickly,  and  upon  an  immense  scale.  The  wise  and  sagacious  Tronchet, 
who  both  admired  and  loved  him,  and  looked  upon  him  as  the  savior  of 
France,  said,  nevertheless,  one  day,  in  a  tone  of  deep  feeling,  to  Cambaceres, 
'  This  young  man  begins  like  Csesar ;  I  fear  that  he  will  end  like  him.' " 

"  Napoleon,"  says  the  Duke  of  Gae'ta,  "  on  his  arrival  at  power,  had  one 
question  of  immense  importance  to  resolve  :  for  a  long  time  it  engrossed  his 
meditations  :  Would  it  be  possible  to  maintain  a  republican  form  of  govern- 
ment ? 


1802.]  FIRST  CONSUL  FOR  LIFE.  393 

"  The  result  of  that  system,  thus  far,  had  not  been  successful  with  us. 
The  remembrance  of  the  excesses  of  the  Revolution  was  recent.  We  were 
threatened  with  the  renewal  of  those  excesses,  with  aggravated  violence,  at 
the  moment  in  which  the  fortune  of  France  placed  her  in  the  hands  of  the 
only  man  capable  of  rescuing  her  from  anarchy.  But  could  he  hope  to  con- 
trol, for  any  length  of  time,  by  the  ascendency  of  his  genius,  those  passions 
which  threatened  incessantly  the  overthrow  of  all  order,  if  he  maintained  a 
political  organization  which  favored  their  deadly  influence  ? 

"It  is  true  that  this  organization  has  succeeded  in  the  United  States. 
But  how  great  the  difference  between  our  situation,  moral  and  physical,  and 
that  of  a  country  entirely  new,  sparsely  settled,  and  of  manners  generally 
austere,  and  which,  besides,  separated  by  the  ocean  from  the  continent  of 
Europe,  excites  no  fear  among  those  powers  that  they  shall  experience  any 
danger  from  the  example  of  that  which  passes  so  far  from  themselves.  But 
how  could  they  look  with  tranquillity  upon  a  similar  example  in  a  neighbor- 
ing country,  so  powerful  as  France  in  position  and  territory  ?  Was  not  all 
Europe,  in  fact,  coalesced  against  the  infant  republic ;  and  was  not  France 
at  the  point  of  being  crushed  in  the  terrible  strife  when  the  national  will 
placed  the  direction  of  affairs  in  the  hands  of  Napoleon  ? 

"  These  considerations  seem  to  render  more  than  doubtful  the  possibility 
of  maintaining  the  new  order  of  things  produced  by  the  Revolution.  Obsta- 
cles of  a  similar  nature  would  unquestionably  oppose  the  establishment  of  a 
monarchy  under  an  illustrious  captain  elevated  from  the  multitude.  It 
would  be  equally  necessary  to  prepare  for  a  vigorous  resistance  to  the  at- 
tacks, more  or  less  prolonged,  of  the  ancient  European  dynasties.  These 
attacks  would  never  yield  but  to  the  power  of  victories. 

"  Nevertheless,  in  approaching  as  near  as  possible  to  the  governmental 
forms  of  England,  a  system  sanctioned  by  time,  Napoleon  flattered  himself 
to  be  able,  with  less  difficulty,  to  preserve  for  the  nation  the  enjoyment  of 
the  principal  advantages  that  France  had  acquired  at  so  high  a  price,  in  re- 
placing her  under  political  forms  to  which  she  had  long  been  accustomed, 
and,  on  the  other  hand,  to  diminish,  perhaps,  the  hostility  of  the  European 
powers  to  a  new  government,  whose  system  would  thus,  at  least,  more  nearly 
resemble  that  which  existed  among  themselves." 

These  opinions,  recorded  by  the  Duke  of  Gaeta,  will  undoubtedly  be  cher- 
ished by  most  thinking  men  who  impartially  reflect  upon  the  then  condition 
of  France.  That  Napoleon  sincerely  adopted  them  there  can  be  no  room  for 
doubt.  That  they  were  entertained  cordially  by  the  great  mass  of  the  French 
people,  is  beyond  all  intelligent  denial. 


394  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.  [CHAP.  XXV. 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

RUPTURE  OF  THE  PEACE  OF  AMIENS. 

Congratulations  sent  to  Napoleon — Dissatisfaction  of  the  English  Government — Peltier,  the  Bour- 
bon Pamphleteer — The  Algerines — Violation  of  the  Treaty  of  Amiens  by  England — Remon- 
strances of  Fox — Indignation  of  Napoleon — Defenseless  Condition  of  France — Interview  with 
Lord  Whitworth — England  commences  the  War — Testimony  of  Ingersoll — of  Thiers — of  Haz- 
litt — of  Scott — of  Alison — of  Lockhart — Remarks  of  Napoleon. 

THE  elevation  of  Napoleon  to  the  supreme  power  for  life  was  regarded  by 
most  of  the  states  of  Continental  Europe  with  satisfaction,  as  tending  to  di- 
minish the  dreaded  influences  of  republicanism,  and  to  assimilate  France 
with  the  surrounding  monarchies.  Even  in  England,  the  prime  minister, 
Mr.  Addington,  assured  the  French  embassador  of  the  cordial  approbation  of 
the  British  government  of  an  event  destined  to  consolidate  order  and  power 
in  France.  The  King  of  Prussia,  the  Emperor  Alexander,  and  the  Archduke 
Charles  of  Austria,  sent  him  their  friendly  congratulations.  Even  Catha- 
rine, the  haughty  Queen  of  Naples,  mother  of  the  Empress  of  Austria,  being 
then  at  Vienna,  in  ardent  expression  of  her  gratification  to  the  French  em- 
bassador, said,  "  General  Bonaparte  is  a  great  man.  He  has  done  me  much 
injury,  but  that  shall  not  prevent  me  from  acknowledging  his  genius.  By 
checking  disorder  in  France  he  has  rendered  a  service  to  all  of  Europe.  He 
has  "attained  the  government  of  his  country  because  he  is  most  worthy  of  it. 
I  hold  him  out  every  day  as  a  pattern  to  the  young  princes  of  the  imperial 
family.  I  exhort  them  to  study  that  extraordinary  personage,  to  learn  from 
him  how  to  direct  nations,  how  to  make  the  yoke  of  authority  endurable  by 
means  of  genius  and  glory." 

"  It  is  clear,"  said  Napoleon,  "  that  if  we  wish  for  good  faith  or  for  perma- 
nency in  our  treaties  of  peace,  it  is  necessary  that  the  governments  which 
surround  us  should  adopt  our  forms,  or  that  our  institutions  should  become 
more  in  harmony  with  theirs.  There  must  always  exist  a  hostile  spirit  be- 
tween the  old  monarchies  and  a  new  republic.  Here  you  see  the  root  of 
European  discord." 

The  Duke  of  Gaeta,  to  whom  Napoleon  made  this  remark,  observes, 
"  The  First  Consul  could  not  more  favorably  express  the  end  toward  which 
he  was  disposed  to  direct  his  measures  (the  re-establishment  of  a  monar- 
chy), and  the  motives  which  influenced  him  in  that  decision.  It  was,  in  his 
opinion,  the  only  means  of  obtaining  a  solid  and  an  abiding  peace." 

But  difficulties  were  rapidly  rising  between  England  and  France.  The 
English  were  much  disappointed  in  not  finding  that  sale  of  their  manufac- 
tures which  they  had  anticipated.  The  cotton  and  iron  manufactures, were 
the  richest  branches  of  industry  in  England.  Napoleon,  supremely  devoted 
to  the  development  of  the  manufacturing  resources  of  France,  encouraged 
those  manufactures  by  the  almost  absolute  prohibition  of  the  rival  articles. 
William  Pitt  and  his  partisans,  still  retaining  immense  influence,  regarded 


1803.]         RUPTURE  OF  THE  PEACE  OF  AMIENS.  395 

with  extreme  jealousy  the  rapid  strides  which  Napoleon  was  making  to 
power,  and  incessantly  declaimed  in  the  journals  against  the  ambition  of 
France.  Most  of  the  Royalist  emigrants  who  had  refused  to  acknowledge 
the  new  government,  and  were  still  devoted  to  the  cause  of  the  Bourbons, 
had  taken  refuge  in  London. 

They  had  been  the  allies  with  England  in  the  long  war  against  France, 
The  English  government  could  not  refrain  from  sympathizing  with  them  in 
their  sufferings.  It  would  have  been  ungenerous  not  to  have  done  so.  The 
emigrants  were  many  of  them  supported  by  pensions  paid  them  by  England. 
At  the  same  time,  they  were  constantly  plotting  conspiracies  against  the  life 
of  Napoleon,  and  sending  assassins  to  shoot  him.  "  I  will  yet  teach  those 
Bourbons,"  said  Napoleon,  in  a  moment  of  indignation,  "  that  I  am  not  a 
man  to  be  shot  at  like  a  dog."  Napoleon  complained  bitterly  that  his  ene- 
mies, then  attempting  his  assassination,  were  in  the  pay  of  the  British  gov- 
ernment. Almost  daily  the  plots  of  these  emigrants  were  brought  to  light 
by  the  vigilance  of  the  French  police. 

A  Bourbon  pamphleteer,  named  Peltier,  circulated  widely  through  En- 
gland the  most  atrocious  libels  against  the  First  Consul,  his  wife,  her  chil- 
dren, his  brothers  and  sisters.  They  were  charged  with  the  most  low,  de- 
grading, and  revolting  vices.  These  accusations  were  circulated  widely 
through  England  and  America.  They  produced  a  profound  impression. 
They  were  believed.  Many  were  interested  in  the  circulation  of  these  re- 
ports, wishing  to  destroy  the  popularity  of  Napoleon,  and  to  prepare  the  pop- 
ulace of  England  for  the  renewal  of  the  war.  Napoleon  remonstrated  against 
such  infamous  representations  of  his  character  being  allowed  in  England. 
But  he  was  informed  that  the  British  press  was  free  ;  that  there  was  no  re- 
source but  to  prosecute  for  libel  in  the  British  courts ;  and  that  it  was  the 
part  of  true  greatness  to  treat  such  slanders  with  contempt.  But  Napoleon 
felt  that  such  false  charges  were  exasperating  nations,  were  paving  the  way 
to  deluge  Europe  again  in  war,  and  that  causes  tending  to  such  woes  were 
too  potent  to  be  despised. 

The  Algerines  were  now  sweeping  with  their  piratic  crafts  the  Mediterra- 
nean, exacting  tribute  from  all  Christian  powers.  A  French  ship  had  been 
wrecked  upon  the  coast,  and  the  crew  were  made  prisoners.  Two  French 
vessels  and  a  Neapolitan  ship  had  also  been  captured  and  taken  to  Algiers. 
The  indignation  of  Napoleon  was  aroused.  He  sent  an  officer  to  the  Dey 
with  a  letter,  informing  him  that  if  the  prisoners  were  not  released  and  the 
captured  vessels  instantly  restored,  and  a  promise  given  to  respect  in  future 
the  flags  of  France  and  Italy,  he  would  send  a  fleet  and  an  army,  and  over- 
whelm him  with  ruin. 

The  Dey  had  heard  of  Napoleon's  career  in  Egypt.  He  was  thoroughly 
frightened,  restored  the  ships  and  the  prisoners,  implored  clemency,  and  with 
barbarian  injustice  doomed  to  death  those  who  had  captured  the  ships  in 
obedience  to  his  commands.  Their  lives  were  saved  only  through  the  inter- 
cession of  the  French  minister.  Napoleon  then  performed  one  of  the  most 
gracious  acts  of  courtesy  toward  the  Pope.  The  feeble  monarch  had  no 
means  of  protecting  his  coasts  from  the  pirates  who  still  swarmed  in  those  seas. 
Napoleon  selected  two  fine  brigs  in  the  naval  arsenal  at  Toulon,  equipped 


396  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.  [CHAP.  XXV. 

them  with  great  elegance,  armed  them  most  effectively,  filled  them  with  na- 
val stores,  and  conferring  upon  them  the  apostolical  names  of  St.  Peter  and 
St.  Paul,  sent  them  as  a  present  to  the  pontiff.  With  characteristic  grandeur 
of  action,  he  carried  his  attentions  so  far  as  to  send  a  cutter  to  bring  back 
the  crews,  that  the  papal  treasury  might  be  exposed  to  no  expense.  The 
venerable  Pope,  in  the  exuberance  of  his  gratitude,  insisted  upon  taking  the 
French  seamen  to  Rome.  He  treated  them  with  every  attention  in  his  pow- 
er ;  exhibited  to  them  St.  Peter's,  and  dazzled  them  with  the  pomp  and 
splendor  of  cathedral  worship.  They  returned  to  France  loaded  with  pres- 
ents, and  exceedingly  gratified  with  the  kindness  with  which  they  had  been 
received. 

It  was  stipulated  in  the  treaty  of  Amiens  that  both  England  and  France 
should  evacuate  Egypt,  and  that  England  should  surrender  Malta  to  its  an- 
cient rulers.  Malta,  impregnable  in  its  fortifications,  commanded  the  Med- 
iterranean, and  was  the  key  of  Egypt.  Napoleon  had  therefore,  while  he 
professed  a  willingness  to  relinquish  all  claim  to  the  island  himself,  insisted 
upon  it,  as  an  essential  point,  that  England  should  do  the  same.  The  ques- 
tion upon  which  the  treaty  hinged  was  the  surrender  of  Malta  to  a  neutral 
power.  The  treaty  was  signed.  Napoleon  promptly  and  scrupulously  ful- 
filled his  agreements.  Several  embarrassments,  for  which  England  was  not 
responsible,  delayed  for  a  few  months  the  evacuation  of  Malta.  But  now 
nearly  a  year  had  passed  since  the  signing  of  the  treaty.  All  obstacles  were 
removed  from  the  way  of  its  entire  fulfillment,  and  yet  the  troops  of  England 
remained  both  in  Egypt  and  in  Malta.  The  question  was  seriously  dis- 
cussed in  Parliament  and  in  the  English  journals,  whether  England  were 
bound  to  fulfill  her  engagements,  since  France  was  growing  so  alarmingly 
powerful. 

Generously  and  eloquently  Fox  exclaimed,  "  I  am  astonished  at  all  I  hear, 
particularly  when  I  consider  who  they  are  that  speak  such  words.  Indeed,  I 
am  more  grieved  than  any  of  the  honorable  friends  and  colleagues  of  Mr. 
Pitt  at  the  growing  greatness  of  France,  which  is  daily  extending  her  pow- 
er in  Europe  and  in  America.  That  France,  now  accused  of  interfering 
with  the  concerns  of  others,  we  invaded,  for  the  purpose  of  forcing  upon  her 
a  government  to  which  she  would  not  submit,  and  of  obliging  her  to  accept 
the  family  of  the  Bourbons,  whose  yoke  she  spurned.  By  one  of  those  sub- 
lime movements  which  history  should  recommend  to  imitation,  and  preserve 
in  eternal  memorial,  she  repelled  her  invaders.  Though  warmly  attached  to 
the  cause  of  England,  we  have  felt  an  involuntary  movement  of  sympathy 
with  that  generous  outburst  of  liberty,  and  we  have  no  desire  to  conceal  it. 
No  doubt  France  is  great,  much  greater  than  a  good  Englishman  ought  to 
wish,  but  that  ought  not  to  be  a  motive  for  violating  solemn  treaties.  Bui 
because  France  now  appears  too  great  to  us — greater  than  we  thought  her 
at  first — to  break  a  solemn  engagement,  to  retain  Malta,  for  instance,  would 
be  an  unworthy  breach  of  faith  which  would  compromise  the  honor  of  Brit- 
ain. I  am  sure  that  if  there  were  in  Paris  an  assembly  similar  to  that  which 
is  debating  here,  the  British  navy  and  its  dominion  over  the  seas  would  be 
talked  of  in  the  same  terms  as  we  talk  in  this  house  of  the  French  armies, 
and  their  dominion  over  the  land." 


1803.]  RUPTURE  OF  THE  PEACE  OF  AMIENS.  397 

Napoleon  sincerely  wished  for  peace.  He  was  constructing  vast  works 
to  embellish  and  improve  the  empire.  Thousands  of  workmen  were  em- 
ployed in  cutting  magnificent  roads  across  the  Alps.  He  was  watching, 
with  intense  interest,  the  growth  of  fortifications  and  the  excavation  of  ca- 
nals. He  was  in  the  possession  of  absolute  power,  was  surrounded  by  uni- 
versal admiration,  and,  in  the  enjoyment  of  profound  peace,  was  congratu- 
lating himself  upon  being  the  pacificator  of  Europe.  He  had  disbanded  his 
armies,  and  was  consecrating  all  the  resources  of  the  nation  to  the  stimula- 
tion of  industry.  He  therefore  left  no  means  of  forbearance  and  concilia- 
tion untried  to  avert  the  calamities  of  war. 

He  received  Lord  Whitworth,  the  English  embassador  in  Paris,  with 
great  distinction.  The  most  delicate  attentions  were  paid  to  his  lady,  the 
Duchess  of  Dorset.  Splendid  entertainments  were  given  at  the  Tuileries 
and  at  St.  Cloud  in  their  honor.  Talleyrand  consecrated  to  them  all  the  re- 
sources of  his  courtly  and  elegant  manners.  The  two  associate  consuls, 
Cambaceres  and  Lebrun,  were  also  unwearied  in  attentions.  Still,  all  these 
efforts  on  the  part  of  Napoleon  to  securo  friendly  relations  with  England 
were  unavailing.  The  British  government  still,  in  open  violation  of  the 
treaty,  retained  Malta.  The  honor  of  France  was  at  stake  in  enforcing  the 
sacredness  of  treaties.  Malta  was  too  important  a  post  to  be  left  in  the 
hands  of  England.  At  last,  England  boldly  demanded  the  evacuation  of 
Holland  by  the  French,  and  the  entire  surrender  of  Malta  to  the  court  of  St. 
James.  Napoleon  was  exceedingly  indignant.  He  exclaimed,  "  The  days 
of  the  Pompadours*  and  Du  Barryst  are  over.  The  French  wish  sincerely 
for  peace,  but  for  a  peace  becoming  honorable  men."  Napoleon  resolved  to 
have  a  personal  interview  himself  with  Lord  Whitworth^  and  to  explain  to 
him,  with  all  frankness,  his  sentiments  and  his  resolves. 

It  was  on  the  evening  of  the  18th  of  February,  1803,  that  Napoleon  re- 
ceived Lord  Whitworth  in  his  cabinet  in  the  Tuileries.  A  large  writing- 
table  occupied  the  middle  of  the  room.  Napoleon  invited  the  embassador 
to  take  a  seat  at  one  end  of  the  table,  and  seated  himself  at  the  other.  "  I 
have  wished,"  said  he,  "  to  converse  with  you  in  person,  that  I  may  fully 
convince  you  of  my  real  opinions  and  intentions."  Then,  with  that  force  of 
language  and  that  perspicuity  which  no  man  ever  excelled,  he  recapitulated 
his  transactions  with  England  from  the  beginning  ;  that  he  had  offered  peace 
immediately  upon  his  accession  to  the  consulship ;  that  peace  had  been  re- 
fused ;  that  eagerly  he  had  renewed  negotiations,  as  soon  as  he  could  with 
any  propriety  do  so ;  and  that  he  had  made  great  concessions  to  secure  the 
peace  of  Amiens. 

"  But  my  efforts,"  said  he,  "  to  live  on  good  terms  with  England  have  met 
with  no  friendly  response.  The  English  newspapers  breathe  but  animosity 

*  Jeanne  Antoinette,  Marchioness  of  Pompadour,  mistress  of  Louis  XV.  She  first  attracted  the 
king's  notice  when  he  was  hunting  in  the  forest  of  Setiart.  She  finally  obtained  almost  boundless 
power  over  the  mind  of  the  king,  and  many  of  the  evils  which  oppressed  France  are  attributed  to 
the  power  which  she  possessed  of  filling  tlio  most  important  offices  of  the  state  with  her  favorites. 

t  Marie  Jeanne  Gomart  de  Vaubernier,  Countess  of  Barry,  the  successor  of  the  Marchioness  of 
Pompadour  in  the  guilty  love  of  Louis  XV.  She  acquired  prodigious  influence  at  court,  and  con- 
ferred the  power  and  the  revenues  of  the  empire  upon  her  favorites.  During  the  Revolution  she 
perished  miserably  upon  the  guillotine. 

VOL.  II.— G 


398 


NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE. 


[CHAP.  XXV. 


NAPOLEON    AND    THE    BRITISH    EMBASSADOR. 


against  me.  The  journals  of  the  emigrants  are  allowed  a  license  of  abuse 
which  is  not  justified  by  the  British  Constitution.  Pensions  are  granted  to 
Georges  and  his  accomplices  who  are  plotting  my  assassination.  The  emi- 
grants, protected  in  England*  are  continually  making  excursions  to  France 
to  stir  up  civil  war.  The  Bourbon  princes  are  received  with  the  insignia  of 
the  ancient  royalty.  Agents  are  sent  to  Switzerland  and  Italy  to  raise  up 
difficulties  against  France.  Every  wind  which  blows  from  England  brings 
me  but  hatred  and  insult.  Now  we  have  come  to  a  situation  from  which 
we  must  relieve  ourselves.  Will  you  or  will  you  not  execute  the  treaty  of 
Amiens  ?  I  have  executed  it  on  my  part  with  scrupulous  fidelity.  That 
treaty  obliged  me  to  evacuate  Naples,  Tarento,  and  the  Roman  States  with- 
in three  months.  In  less  than  two  months  all  the  French  troops  were  out 
of  those  countries.  Ten  months  have  elapsed  since  the  exchange  of  the  rat- 
ifications, and  the  English  troops  are  still  in  Malta  and  at  Alexandria.  It  is 
useless  to  try  to  deceive  me  on  this  point.  Will  you  have  peace  or  will  you 
have  war  ?  If  you  are  for  war,  only  say  so  ;  we  will  wage  it  unrelentingly. 
If  you  wish  for  peace,  you  must  evacuate  Alexandria  and  Malta. 

"  The  rock  of  Malta,  on  which  so  many  fortifications  have  been  erected, 
is,  in  a  maritime  point  of  view,  an  object  of  great  importance ;  but,  in  my 
estimation,  it  has  an  importance  infinitely  greater,  inasmuch  as  it  implicates 
the  honor  of  France.  What  would  the  world  say  if  we  were  to  allow  a 
solemn  treaty  signed  with  us  to  be  violated  ?  It  would  doubt  our  energy. 
For  my  part,  my  resolution  is  fixed.  I  had  rather  see  you  in  possession  of 
the  Heights  of  Montmartre  than  in  possession  of  Malta. 

"  If  you  doubt  my  desire  to  preserve  peace,  listen,  and  judge  how  far  I 
am  sincere.  Though  yet  very  young,  I  have  obtained  a  power,  a  renown, 
to  which  it  would  be  difficult  to  add.  Do  you  imagine  that  I  am  solicitous 
to  risk  this  power,  this  renown,  in  a  desperate  struggle  ?  If  I  have  a  war 
with  Austria,  I  shall  contrive  to  find  the  way  to  Vienna.  If  I  have  a  war 


1803.]  RUPTURE  OF  THE  PEACE  OF  AMIENS.  399 

with  you,  I  will  take  from  you  every  ally  upon  the  Continent.  You  will 
blockade  us  ;  but  I  will  blockade  you  in  my  turn.  You  will  make  the  Con- 
tinent a  prison  for  us,  but  I  will  make  the  seas  a  prison  for  you.  However, 
to  conclude  the  war,  there  must  be  more  direct  efficiency.  There  must  be 
assembled  150,000  men  and  an  immense  flotilla.  We  must  try  to  cross  the 
Strait,  and  perhaps  I  shall  bury  in  the  depths  of  the  sea  my  fortune,  my  glory, 
my  life.  It  is  an  awful  temerity,  my  lord,  the  invasion  of  England." 

Here,  to  the  amazement  of  Lord  Whitworth,  Napoleon  enumerated  frank- 
ly and  powerfully  all  the  perils  of  the  enterprise ;  the  enormous  preparations 
it  would  be  necessary  to  make  of  ships,  men,  and  munitions  of  war;  the  diffi- 
culty of  eluding  the.  English  fleet.  "The  chance  that  we  shall  perish,"  said 
he,  "is  vastly  greater  than  the  chance  that  we  shall  succeed.  Yet  this  te- 
merity, my  lord,  awful  as  it  is,  I  am  determined  to  hazard,  if  you  force  me  to 
it.  I  will  risk  my  army  and  my  life.  With  me  that  great  enterprise  will 
have  chances  which  it  can  hot  have  with  any  other.  See  now  if  I  ought, 
prosperous,  powerful,  and  peaceful  as  I  now  am,  to  risk  power,  prosperity, 
and  peace  in  such  an  enterprise.  Judge  if,  when  I  say  I  am  desirous  of 
peace,  I  am  not  sincere. 

"  It  is  better  for  you,  it  is  better  for  me,  to  keep  within  the  limits  of  treat- 
ies. You  must  evacuate  Malta.  You  must  not  harbor  my  assassins  in  En- 
gland. Let  me  be  abused,  if  you  please,  by  the  English  journals,  but  not 
by  those  miserable  emigrants  who  dishonor  the  protection  you  grant  them, 
and  whom  the  Alien  Act  permits  you  to  expel  from  the  country.  Act  cor- 
dially with  me,  and  I  promise  you,  on  my  part,  an  entire  cordiality.  See  what 
powrer  we  should  exercise  over  the  world  if  we  could  bring  our  two  nations 
together.  You  have  a  navy  which,  with  the  incessant  efforts  of  ten  years, 
in  the  employment  of  all  my  resources,  I  should  not  be  able  to  equal.  But 
I  have  500,000  men  ready  to  march  under  my  command  whithersoever  I 
choose  to  lead  them.  If  you  are  masters  of  the  seas,  I  am  master  of  the  land. 
Let  us,  then,  think  of  uniting  rather  than  of  going  to  war,  and  we  shall  rule 
at  pleasure  the  destinies  of  the  world.  France  and  England  united  can  do 
every  thing  for  the  interests  of  humanity." 

England,  however,  still  refused,  upon  one  pretense  and  another,  to  yield 
Malta;  and  both  parties  were  growing  more  and  more  exasperated,  and  were 
gradually  preparing  for  the  renewal  of  hostilities.  Napoleon,  at  times,  gave 
very  free  utterance  to  his  indignation. 

"  Malta,"  said  he,  "  gives  the  dominion  of  the  Mediterranean.  Nobody 
will  believe  that  I  consent  to  surrender  the  Mediterranean  to  the  English 
unless  I  fear  their  power.  I  thus  lose  the  most  important  sea  in  the  world, 
and  the  respect  of  Europe.  I  will  fight  to  the  last  for  the  possession  of  the 
Mediterranean  ;  and  if  I  once  get  to  Dover,  it  is  all  over  with  those  tyrants 
of  the  seas.  Besides,  as  we  must  fight,  sooner  or  later,  with  a  people  to 
whom  the  greatness  of  France  is  intolerable,  the  sooner  the  better.  I  am 
young.  The  English  are  in  the  wrong,  more  so  than  they  will  ever  be  again. 
I  had  rather  settle  the  matter  at  once.  They  shall  not  have  Malta." 

Still  Napoleon  assented  to  the  proposal  for  negotiating  with  the  English 
for  the  cession  of  some  other  island  in  the  Mediterranean.  "Let  them  ob- 
tain a  port  to  put  into,"  said  he ;  "to  that  I  have  no  objection.  But  I  am 


400  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.  [CHAP.  XXV. 

determined  that  they  shall  not  have  two  Gibraltars  in  that  sea — one  at  the 
entrance,  and  one  at  the  middle."  To  this  proposition,  however,  England 
refused  assent. 

Napoleon  then  proposed  that  the  island  of  Malta  should  be  placed  in  the 
hands  of  the  Emperor  of  Russia,  leaving  it  with  him  in  trust  till  the  discus- 
sions between  France  and  England  were  decided.  It  had  so  happened  that 
the  Emperor  had  just  offered  his  mediation,  if  that  could  be  available,  to  pre- 
vent a  war.  This  the  English  government  also  declined,  upon  the  plea  that 
it  did  not  think  that  Russia  would  be  willing  to  accept  the  office  thus  im- 
posed upon  her.  The  English  embassador  now  received  instructions  to  de- 
mand that  France  should  cede  Malta  to  England  for  ten  years ;  and  that 
England,  by  way  of  compensation,  would  recognize  the  Italian  Republic. 
The  embassador  was  ordered  to  apply  for  his  passports  if  these  conditions 
were  not  accepted  within  seven  days.  To  this  insulting  proposition  France 
would  not  accede.  The  English  minister  demanded  his  passports  and  left 
France.  Immediately  the  English  fleet  commenced  its  attack  upon  French 
merchant-ships,  wherever  they  could  be  found ;  and  the  world  was  again 
deluged  in  war. 

No  fact  in  history  can  be  more  conclusively  proved  than  that  Napoleon 
was  not  responsible  for  the  rupture  of  the  peace  of  Amiens.  As  the  settle- 
ment of  this  question  is  a  matter  of  much  moment,  we  will  introduce  some 
additional  testimony. 

Napoleon,  at  St. Helena,  said,  "At  Amiens  I  sincerely  thought  that  the 
fate  of  France  and  of  Europe,  and  my  own  destiny,  were  permanently  fixed. 
The  English  cabinet,  however,  again  kindled  the  flame  of  war.  England  is 
alone  responsible  for  all  the  miseries  with  which  Europe  has  since  been  as- 
sailed. For  my  part,  I  intended  to  devote  myself  wholly  to  the  internal  in- 
terests of  France.  I  am  confident  that  I  should  have  wrought  miracles.  I 
should  have  lost  nothing  in  the  scale  of  glory,  and  I  should  have  gained 
much  in  the  scale  of  happiness.  1  should  then  have  achieved  the  moral  con- 
quest of  Europe,  which  I  was  afterward  on  the  point  of  accomplishing  by  the 
force  of  arms.  Of  how  much  glory  was  I  thus  deprived  !  My  enemies  al- 
ways spoke  of  my"  love  of  war.  But  was  I  not  constantly  engaged  in  self- 
defense  ?  After  every  victory  I  gained,  did  I  not  immediately  make  pro- 
posals for  peace  ? 

"  The  truth  is,  I  never  was  master  of  my  own  actions.  I  never  was  en- 
tirely myself.  I  might  have  conceived  many  plans,  but  I  never  had  it  in  my 
power  to  execute  any.  I  held  the  reins  with  a  vigorous  hand,  but  the  fury 
of  the  waves  was  greater  than  any  force  I  could  exert  in  resisting  them.  I 
prudently  yielded  rather  than  incur  the  risk  of  sinking  through  stubborn  op- 
position. I  was  never  truly  my  own  master,  but  was  always  controlled  by 
circumstances.  Thus,  at  the  commencement  of  my  rise,  during  the  consu- 
late, my  sincere  friends  and  warm  partisans  frequently  asked  me,  with  the 
best  intentions,  and  as  a  guide  for  their  own  conduct,  what  point  I  was  driv- 
ing at.  I  always  answered  that  I  did  not  know.  They  were  surprised—- 
probably dissatisfied  ;  and  yet  I  spoke  the  truth.  Subsequently,  during  the 
Empire,  when  there  was  less  familiarity,  many  faces  seemed  to  put  the  same 
question  to  me.  I  might  still  have  given  the  same  reply.  In  fact,  I  was  not 


1803.]  RUPTURE  OF  THE  PEACE  OF  AMIENS.  401 

master  of  my  own  actions,  because  I  was  not  foolish  enough  to  attempt  to 
twist  events  into  conformity  with  my  system.  On  the  contrary,  I  moulded 
my  system  according  to  the  unforeseen  succession  of  events.  This  often  ap- 
peared like  unsteadiness  and  inconsistency,  and  of  this  fault  I  was  some- 
times unjustly  accused." 

The  Hon.  Charles  J.  Ingersoll  says,  "  The  facts,  as  understood  in  Paris  at 
the  time,  were,  that  England,  mortified  by  the  treaty  of  Amiens  and  French 
Republican  progress,  resolved  on  renewal  of  war,  on  which  the  re-establish- 
ment of  Tory  complete  ascendency  depended,  \viih  restoration  of  Pitt  as 
prime  minister.  Bonaparte  was  well  aware  of  the  British  government's  de- 
termination to  renew  hostilities,  and  desire  of  pretexts  for  the  rupture."* 

Thiers  says,  "After  mature  reflection,  we  can  not  condemn  France  for  this 
renewal  of  the  conflict  between  the  two  nations.  The  First  Consul,  on  this 
occasion,  conducted  with  perfect  good  faith.  Unfortunately,  a  weak  admin- 
istration, desirous  of  preserving  peace,  but  fearing  the  war  party,  alarmed  at 
the  noise  which  was  made  about  Switzerland,  committed  the  blunder  of 
countermanding  the  evacuation  of  Malta.  From  that  moment  peace  was  ir- 
revocably sacrificed ;  for  the  rich  prize  of  Malta,  once  held  forth  to  British 
ambition,  could  not  possibly  be  refused  to  it  afterward.  The  promptness 
and  moderation  of  the  French  intervention  in  Switzerland  having  put  an  end 
to  the  grievance  made  out  of  it,  the  British  cabinet  would  have  been  very 
glad  to  evacuate  Malta,  but  durst  not.  The  First  Consul  summoned  it,  in 
the  language  of  justice  and  wounded  pride,  to  execute  the  treaty  of  Amiens. 
Summons  after  summons  led  to  the  deplorable  rupture  which  we  have  just 
recorded."! 

William  Hazlitt  says,  "Great  Britain  declared  war  against  France  the 
18th  of  May,  1803.  Period  ever  fatal  and  memorable  !  the  commencement 
of  another  Iliad  of  woes,  not  to  be  forgotten  while  the  world  shall  last !  The 
former  war  had  failed,  and  the  object  of  this  was  to  make  another  desperate 
effort  to  put  down,  by  force  of  arms,  at  every  risk,  the  example  of  a  revolution 
wrhich  had  overturned  a  hateful  but  long-established  tyranny,  and  which  had 
hitherto  been  successful  over  every  attempt  to  crush  it,  by  external  or  in- 
ternal means. 

"  Of  all  the  fictions  that  were  made  use  of  to  cloak  this  crying  iniquity, 
the  pleas  of  justice  and  humanity  were  the  most  fallacious.  No  very  great 
ceremony  was  employed  on  the  present  occasion,  but  ratheT  a  cavalier  and 
peremptory  tone  was  encouraged.  Malta  was  merely  a  criminal  pretext. 
The  encroachments  of  France,  and  the  extension  of  its  influence  since  the 
conclusion  of  the  treaty,  were  said  to  endanger  our  possessions  in  India,  and 
to  require  Malta  as  an  additional  security.  But  had  we  not  extended  our 
conquests  in  India  in  the  mean  time  ?  Or  would  this  have  been  held  a  valid 
plea  if  the  French  had  broken  off  the  treaty  on  that  ground  ?  But  we  our- 
selves are  always  exceptions  to  the  rules  we  impose  magisterially  upon 
others."}: 

*  Ingersoll's  Second  War,  vol.  i.,  p.  203. 

(L  For  a  full  account  of  this  transaction,  see  Thiers1  Consulate  and  Empire,  vol.  i.,  p.  499. 
J  "In  order  to  put  ourselves  into  a  situation  to  judge  impartially  in  this  case,  and  to  see  on  which 
side  the  impediments  to  peace  and  amity  lay,  let  us  for  a  moment  reverse  the  picture,  and  turn  the 


402  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.  [CHAP.  XXV. 

Sir  Walter  Scott  says,  "  The  English  ministry  lowered  their  claim  of  re- 
taining Malta  in  perpetuity  to  the  right  of  holding  it  for  ten  years.  Bona- 
parte, on  the  other  hand,  would  listen  to  no  modification  of  the  treaty  of 
Amiens,  but  offered,  as  the  guarantee  afforded  by  the  occupation  of  Nea- 
politan troops  was  objected  to,  that  the  garrison  should  consist  of  Russians 
or  Austrians.  To  this  proposal  Britain  would  not  accede.  Lord  Whitworth 
left  Paris,  and  on  the  18th  of  May,  1803,  Britain  declared  war  against  France. 

tables  the  other  way.  Let  us  suppose  that,  from  the  cessation  of  hostilities,  a  system  of  unqualified 
abuse  and  unsparing  ribaldry  had  commenced  on  the  other  side  of  the  water,  against  the  English 
nation  and  government,  and  that  his  majesty,  King  George  III.,  had  been  daily  accused  of  the  most 
shocking  public  and  private  vices,  and  his  name  coupled  with  epithets  that  can  not  be  repeated  ;  that 
the  females  of  the  royal  family  had  been  held  up  to  opprobrium  and  contempt,  as  engaged  in  the 
grossest  and  most  scandalous  intrigues ;  that,  on  application  being  made  to  put  a  stop  to  the  evil, 
the  only  redress  that  could  be  obtained  was  an  appeal  to  a  court  of  justice,  where  all  the  charges 
were  insisted  on  with  a  double  relish  and  acrimony,  amid  a  shout  of  exultation  and  jubilee  from  the 
whole  venal  press. 

"  Let  us  suppose  that  the  ruling  monarch  of  this  country  had  been,  without  the  intermission  of 
a  day,  taunted  with  the  mention  of  his  constitutional  malady,  and  with  his  being  the  descendant  of 
a  petty  German  elector.  Let  us  suppose  the  surviving  branches  of  the  Stuart  family  to  be  main- 
tained in  France  at  the  public  expense,  and  their  pretensions  to  the  throne  of  England  sometimes 
broadly  insinuated,  never  clearly  disavowed,  but  kept  in  a  doubtful  state,  to  be  brought  forward  at  a 
moment's  warning  ;  that  bands  of  organized  rebels  and  assassins,  in  the  pay  of  these  princes,  hov- 
ered constantly  on  the  English  coast  to  excite  insurrection,  and  glided  even  into  royal  palaces ;  that 
they  had  several  times  attempted  the  life  of  the  king,  but  that  they  were  still  in  the  same  favor,  and 
kept  up  a  clandestine  intercourse  with  the  republican  government. 

"  Let  us  suppose  that  remonstrances  were  made  against  these  proceedings,  which  were  received 
with  official  coldness  and  contempt ;  but  let  us  suppose  it  to  have  been  considered  as  a  mark  of 
want  of  zeal  and  devotion  to  the  person  and  government  of  the  First  Consul  for  a  Frenchman  to 
visit  England,  or  to  be  introduced  at  the  English  court ;  let  us  suppose  every  advance  toward  con- 
fidence or  cordiality  to  be  carefully  shunned,  every  handle  for  recrimination  or  distrust  to  be  eagerly 
seized  upon  ;  that  the  articles  of  the  pretended  treaty  for  peace  were  executed  slowly,  one  by  one ; 
that  the  reluctance  to  conclude  it  evidently  increased  in  proportion  to  the  delays  that  had  taken 
place  ;  that  at  last,  when  the  farce  could  be  kept  up  no  longer,  it  was  suddenly  put  an  end  to  by  a 
flat  refusal  to  execute  one  of  the  stipulations,  and  by  forged  rumors  of  preparations  in  the  ports  of 
England  to  invade  France — who  would  have  asked  in  that  case  on  which  side  the  bar  to  peace  lay, 
or  which  government  harbored  a  rooted  and  rancorous  desire  for  the  renewal  of  the  war  1  But  it 
may  be  said  there  was  a  difference  between  Napoleon  Bonaparte  and  George  III.  Yes,  it  was  on 
that  difference  that  the  whole  question  turned.  It  was  the  sense  of  degradation,  and  of  the  com- 
promise of  the  kingly  dignity  in  condescending  to  make  peace,  on  a  friendly  and  equal  footing, 
with  an  individual  who  had  risen  from  the  people,  and  who  had  no  power  over  them  but  from  the 
services  he  had  rendered  them,  that  produced  a  repugnance,  amounting  to  loathing,  to  a  peace  with 
the  republic — that  plunged  us  into  all  the  horrors  and  calamities  of  war,  and  brought  us  back,  in 
the  end,  to  the  arms  and  to  the  blessings  of  legitimate  government !  Persons  who  are  fond  of 
dwelling  on  the  work  of  retribution  might  perhaps  trace  its  finger  here.  The  monarch  survived 
the  accomplishment  of  all  his  wishes,  but  without  knowing  that  they  had  been  accomplished.  To 
those  who  long  after  passed  that  way,  at  whatever  hour  of  the  night,  a  light  shone  from  one  of  the 
watch-towers  of  Windsor  Castle  :  it  was  from  the  chamber  of  a  king,  old,  blind,  bereft  of  reason, 
with  double  darkness  bound,  of  body  and  mind.  Nor  was  that  film  ever  removed,  nor  those  eyes  or 
that  understanding  restored,  to  hail  the  sacred  triumph  of  kings  over  mankind  ;  but  the  light  stream- 
ed and  streamed,  indicating  no  dawn  within,  for  long  years  after  the  celebration  of  that  day  which 
gladdened  the  hearts  of  monarchs  and  of  menial  nations,  and  through  that  second  night  of  slavery 
which  succeeded — the  work  of  a  single  breast,  which  it  had  dearly  accomplished  in  darkness,  in 
self-oblivion,  and  in  more  than  kingly  solitude." — Hazlitt's  Napoleon,  vol.  ii.,  p.  248-252. 

Unquestionably  there  is  the  commencement  of  retribution  even  in  this  life.  But  prosperity  a 
not  always  the  test  of  Divine  approval.  Still,  when  our  enemies  meet  with  reverses,  we  are  evei 
ready  to  cry  out,  "  It  is  a  judgment."  When  calamities  befall  our  friends,  we  more  devoutly  ex- 
claim, "  Whom  the  Lord  loveth  he  chasteneth."  Napoleon  breathed  his  last  upon  the  rock  of  St 
Helena.  George  III.  descended  to  the  tomb  through  dreary  years  of  blindness  and  insanity. 


1803.]  RUPTURE  OF  THE  PEACE  OF  AMIENS.  403 

The  bloody  war  which  succeeded  the  short  peace  of  Amiens  originated,  to 
use  the  words  of  the  satirist,  in  high  words,  jealousies,  and  fears.  There 
was  no  special  or  determinate  cause  of  quarrel,  which  could  be  removed  by  ex- 
planation, apology,  or  concession." 

Mr.  Lockhart  remarks,  "  On  the  18th  of  May,  Great  Britain  declared  war. 
Orders  had  previously  been  given  for  seizing  French  shipping  wherever  it 
could  be  found.  It  is  said  that  two  hundred  vessels,  containing  property  to 
the  amount  of  three  millions  sterling  ($15,000,000),  had  been  laid  hold  of 
accordingly  ere  the  proclamation  of  hostilities  reached  Paris.  Whether^  the 
custom  of  thus  unceremoniously  seizing  private  property  under  such  cir- 
cumstances be  right  or  wrong,  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  the  custom  had 
been  long  established,  acted  upon  by  England  on  all  similar  occasions,  and 
of  course  considered,  after  the  lapse  of  ages  and  the  acquiescence  of  innu- 
merable treaties,  as  part  and  parcel  of  the  European  system  of  warfare." 

Sir  Archibald  Alison  says,  "Upon  coolly  reviewing  the  circumstances 
under  which  the  contest  was  renewed,  it  is  impossible  to  deny  that  the  Brit- 
ish government  manifested  a  feverish  desire  to  come  to  a  rupture,  and  that, 
so  far  as  the  transactions  between  the  two  countries  are  concerned,  they  are 
the  aggressors." 

In  noble  words,  which  will  meet  with  a  response  in  every  generous  heart, 
Napoleon  said  to  his  ministers,  in  view  of  this  new  outburst  of  war,  "  Since 
the  English  wish  to  force  us  to  leap  the  ditch,  we  will  leap  it.  They  may 
take  some  of  our  frigates  or  our  colonies,  but  I  will  carry  terror  into  the 
streets  of  London.  I  give  them  warning  that  they  will  bewail  the  end  of 
this  war  with  tears  of  blood.  The  ministers  have  made  the  King  of  England 
tell  a  lie  in  the  face  of  Europe.  There  were  no  armaments  going  on  in 
France.  There  has  been  no  negotiation.  They  have  not  transmitted  to  me 
a  single  note.  Lord  Whitworth  could  not  help  acknowledging  it.  And  yet 
it  is  by  the  aid  of  such  vile  insinuations  that  a  government  seeks  to  excite 
the  passions.  For  the  last  two  months  I  have  endured  all  sorts  of  insults 
from  the  English  government.  I  have  let  them  fill  up  the  measure  of  their 
offenses.  They  have  construed  that  into  feebleness,  and  have  redoubled 
their  presumption  to  the  point  of  making  their  embassador  say,  '  Do  so  and 
so,  or  I  shall  depart  in  seven  days?  Is  it  thus  that  they  address  a  great 
nation  ? 

"  He  was  requested  to  write,  and  that  his  note  would  be  laid  before  the 
eyes  of  government.  'No,'  was  the  reply;  '  I  have  orders  to  communicate 
only  verbally.'  Is  not  this  an  unheard  of  form  of  negotiating?  Does  it  not 
show  a  marked  determination  to  shuffle,  equivocate,  play  at  fast  and  loose 
as  they  please,  and  leave  no  proof  against  themselves  ?  But  if  they  falsify 
facts,  what  proof  can  be  placed  in  their  sincerity  in  other  respects  ?  They 
are  deceived  if  they  think  to  dictate  laws  to  forty  millions  of  people.  They 
have  been  led  to  believe  that  I  dreaded  war  lest  it  should  shake  my  au- 
thority. I  will  raise  two  millions  of  men  if  it  be  necessary.  The  result  of 
the  first  war  has  been  to  aggrandize  France  by  the  addition  of  Belgium  and 
Piedmont  The  result  of  this  will  be  to  consolidate  our  federative  system 
still  more  firmly.  The  bond  of  union  between  two  great  nations  can  be  no 
other  than  justice  and  the  observation  of  treaties.  The  one  toward  which 


404  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.  [CHAP.  XXV. 

they  are  violated  can  not,  ought  not  to  suffer  it,  under  pain  of  degradation. 
Let  her  but  once  give  way,  and  she  is  lost.  It  would  be  better  for  the 
French  people  to  bend  to  the  yoke,  and  erect  the  throne  of  the  King  of  En- 
gland in  Paris,  than  to  submit  to  the  caprices  and  arbitrary  pretensions  of 
her  government. 

"  One  day  they  will  demand  the  salute  from  our  vessels,  another  they  will 
forbid  our  navigators  to  pass  beyond  such  a  latitude.  Already,  even,  they 
observe  with  jealousy  that  we  are  clearing  out  our  harbors  and  re-establish- 
ing our  marine.  They  complain  of  it ;  they  demand  guarantees.  A  short 
time  ago  the  Vice-admiral  Lesseignes  touched  at  Malta.  He  had  no  ships 
with  him.  He  found  fifteen  English  ones  there.  They  wanted  him  to  fire 
a  salute.  Lesseignes  refused.  Some  words  passed.  If  he  had  yielded,  I 
would  have  had  him  carried  in  procession  on  an  ass,  which  is  a  mode  of  pun- 
ishment more  ignominious  than  the  guillotine.  I  flatter  myself  that  when 
our  conduct  shall  be  made  known,  there  is  not  a  corner  of  Europe  in  which 
it  will  not  meet  with  approbation.  When  England  consented  to  a  peace, 
she  thought  that  we  should  tear  one  another  to  pieces  in  the  interior — that 
the  generals  would  give  France  trouble.  The  English  have  done  all  they 
could,  but  their  intrigues  of  every  kind  have  been  in  vain.  Every  one  has 
occupied  himself  only  in  repairing  his  losses.  A  little  sooner  or  little  later 
we  must  have  had  war.  It  is  best  to  have  it  at  once,  before  our  maritime 
commerce  is  restored." 

When  these  events  were  communicated  to  the  Legislative  Body,  M.  Fon- 
taine thus  addressed  them : 

"  France  is  ready  to  cover  herself  once  more  with  those  arms  which  have 
conquered  Europe.  It  is  not  France  which  will  declare  war,  but  she  will 
accept  the  challenge  without  fear,  and  will  know  how  to  maintain  it  with 
energy.  Our  country  is  become  anew  the  centre  of  civilized  Europe.  En- 
gland can  no  longer  say  that  she  is  defending  the  indispensable  principles  of 
society,  menaced  to  its  foundations.  It  is  we  who  may  hold  this  language  if 
war  is  rekindled.  It  is  we  who  shall  then  have  to  avenge  the  right  of  na» 
tions  and  the  cause  of  humanity,  in  repelling  the  unjust  attacks  of  a  govern- 
ment that  negotiates  to  deceive,  that  asks  for  peace  to  prepare  for  war,  and 
that  signs  treaties  only  to  break  them.  If  the  signal  is  once  given,  France 
will  rally,  by  a  unanimous  movement,  around  the  hero  she  admires.  All  the 
parties  whom  he  keeps  in  order  near  him  will  only  dispute  who  shall  mani- 
fest most  zeal  and  courage.  All  feel  the  want  of  his  genius,  and  acknowl- 
edge that  he  alone  can  sustain  the  weight  and  grandeur  of  our  new  destinies." 

The  Duke  of  Gae'ta,  who  was  one  of  the  most  prominent  members  of  Na- 
poleon's council,  in  his  very  interesting  memoirs,  speaks  of  Napoleon's  earn- 
est and  uninterrupted  efforts  to  promote  peace,  and  of  the  efforts  of  the  Allies 
to  represent  him  as  provoking  war.  "It  is  thus,"  says  h^,  "that  malevo- 
lence attempts  to  tarnish  the  reputation  of  Napoleon.  No  one  can  be  igno- 
rant that  Napoleon's  most  earnest  desire,  upon  his  attainment  of  power,  was 
to  secure  peace  with  England,  and  that  he  was  invariably  repulsed  in  all  his 
advances.  In  the  midst  of  negotiations  which  he  hoped  would  lead  to  peace, 
Mr.  Dundas,  the  English  Secretary  of  State,  informed  Monsieur  Otto,  Com- 
missary of  the  French  Republic,  that 


1803.]  RUPTURE  OF  THE  PEACE  OF  AMIENS.  405 

"  '  It  was  the  decision  of  the  King  of  England  that  the  orders  to  capture 
and  destroy  the  boats  of  the  French  fishermen,  and  to  make  their  crews 
prisoners  of  war,  should  anew  be  put  into  execution.' 

"  As  soon  as  the  First  Consul  was  informed  of  this,  he  ordered  the  French 
Commissioner  to  leave  London,  and  to  communicate,  on  his  departure,  the 
following  note  to  the  British  government : 

"  '  The  undersigned,  having  transmitted  to  his  government  the  declaration 
of  the  British  minister,  which  announces  that  the  French  fishermen  are  to  be 
pursued  and  captured — a  declaration  in  virtue  of  which  many  barks  and  fish- 
ing boats  have  already  been  taken,  the  First  Consul  ha's  considered  that,  since 
this  act  of  the  British  government,  contrary  to  the  usages  of  civilized  na- 
tions, and  also  to  the  laws  which  govern  them,  even  in  times  of  war,  must 
give  to  the  actual  war  an  aspect  of  bitterness  and  fury  unparalleled,  and  also 
exasperate  still  more  the  two  nations,  and  put  at  a  still  greater  distance  the 
period  of  peace,  therefore  the  undersigned  can  no  longer  remain  in  a  coun- 
try where  not  only  all  disposition  toward  peace  is  abjured,  but  where  even 
the  laws  and  usages  of  war  are  violated  and  contemned.  The  undersigned 

O  o 

has  consequently  received  orders  to  leave  England,  where  he  finds  a  further 
residence  entirely  useless.  He  is,  at  the  same  time,  charged  to  declare  that 
the  French  government,  having  had  always  for  itsjirst  desire  to  contribute  to 
a  general  peace,  and  for  its  maxim  to  mitigate,  as  far  as  possible,  the  calami- 
ties of  war,  can  not  consent,  on  its  part,  to  render  poor  fishermen  the  victims 
of  prolonged  hostilities.  It  will,  on  the  contrary,  abstain  Jrom  all  reprisals, 
and  it  has  ordered  the  armed  ships  of  France  to  continue  to  leave  all  fisher- 
men free  and  unmolested?  " 

On  the  20th  of  May,  Napoleon,  in  the  following  proclamation,  announced 
to  France  the  rupture  of  the  peace  of  Amiens. 

"We  are  forced  to  make  war,  to  repel  an  unjust  aggression.  We  will  do 
so  with  glory.  If  the  King  of  England  is  resolved  to  keep  Great  Britain  in 
a  state  of  war  till  France  shall  recognize  his  right  of  executing  or  violating 
treaties  at  his  pleasure,  as  well  as  the  privilege  of  outraging  the  French  gov- 
ernment in  official  and  private  publications,  without  allowing  us  to  complain, 
we  must  mourn  for  the  fate  of  humanity.  We  assuredly  wish  to  leave  to 
our  descendants  the  French  name  honored  and  without  a  stain.  Whatever 
may  be  the  circumstances,  we  shall,  on  all  occasions,  leave  it  to  England  to 
take  the  initiative  in  all  proceedings  of  violence  against  the  peace  and  inde- 
pendence of  nations  ;  and  she  shall  receive  from  us  an  example  of  th?.t  mod- 
eration which  alone  can  afford  any  real  security  for  social  order  and  public 
happiness." 

Napoleon,  at  St.  Helena,  in  speaking  of  the  injustice  of  this  unprovoked 
and  wanton  attack,  remarked,  "  During  the  past  four  years  I  had  reunited 
all  the  parties  into  which  France  had  been  divided  before  my  accession  to 
power.  The  list  of  emigrants  was  closed.  I  had  at  first  marked,  then 
erased,  and  finally  granted  an  amnesty  to  all  those  who  wished  to  return  to 
their  country.  All  their  existing  and  unsold  property  had  been  restored, 
with  the  exception  of  the  forests,  of  which  the  law  assigned  them  the  rev- 
enues. There  no  longer  remained  on  that  list  any  names  except  those  of 
*  Chroniques  Contemporaries,  par  M.  Gaudin,  Due  de  Gacte,  p.  126. 


406  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.  [CHAP.  XXVI. 

persons  immediately  attached  to  the  princes  of  the  house  of  Bourbon,  who 
did  not  wish  to  take  advantage  of  the  amnesty.  Thousands  upon  thousands 
of  the  emigrants  had  returned,  and  been  subjected  to  no  other  conditions 
than  the  oath  of  fidelity  and  obedience  to  the  Republic.  These  laws  effect- 
ed great  amelioration  in  public  affairs.  They,  however,  were  accompanied 
by  the  inevitable  inconvenience  of  imboldening,  by  their  very  mildness  and 
indulgence,  the  foes  of  the  consular  government — the  Royalist  party  and  our 
foreign  enemies." 

The  English  government,  with  insults,  rejected  Napoleon's  overtures  for 
peace  when  he  ascended  the  consular  throne.  At  last,  intimidated  by  the 
clamor  of  the  English  people,  the  government  reluctantly  made  peace.  But, 
watching  for  an  opportunity  to  renew  the  war,  the  English  government  vio- 
lated the  most  solemn  stipulations  of  the  treaty  of  Amiens,  seized  two  hund- 
red French  vessels,  containing  fifteen  millions  of  dollars,  and  commenced 
the  annihilation  of  French  commerce  before  her  declaration  of  hostilities  had 
time  to  reach  Paris.  Then,  to  defame  the  character  of  that  great  man  who 
nobly  roused  his  country  to  self-defense,  she  filled  the  world  with  the  cry 
that  Napoleon,  through  insatiate  ambition  and  c  bloodthirsty  spirit,  had  pro- 
voked the  war.  This  deed  of  infamy  can  not  be  painted  in  colors  too  black. 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

THE    CAMP    AT    BOULOGNE. 

Verdfct  of  History — Power  of  England — Seizure  of  French  Ships — Retaliatory  Seizure  of  English 
Travelers — Preparations  for  the  Invasion  of  England — Tour  through  Belgium — Plans  for  cross- 
ing the  Straits  of  Dover — The  young  English  Sailor — The  Secretary — The  Camp  at  Boulogne 
— Consternation  of  England — Testimony  of  Wellington — Plans  for  the  Assassination  of  Bona- 
parte. 

IMPARTIAL  history,  without  a  dissenting  voice,  must  award  the  responsi- 
bility of  the  rupture  of  the  peace  of  Amiens  to  the  government  of  Great  Brit- 
ain. Napoleon  had  nothing  to  hope  for  from  war,  and  every  thing  to  fear. 
The  only  way  in  which  he  could  even  approach  his  formidable  enemy  was 
by  crossing  the  sea  and  invading  England.  He  acknowledged,  and  the 
world  knew,  that  such  an  enterprise  was  an  act  of  desperation.  England 
was  the  undisputed  mistress  of  the  seas,  and  no  naval  power  could  stand  be- 
fore her  ships.  The  voice  of  poetry  was  the  voice  of  truth — 

"  Britannia  needs  no  bulwarks  to  frown  along  the  steep, 
,  Her  march  is  on  the  mountain-wave,  her  home  is  on  the  deep." 

England,  with  her  invincible  navy,  could  assail  France  in  every  quarter. 
She  could  sweep  the  merchant  ships  of  the  infant  republic  from  the  ocean, 
and  appropriate  to  herself  the  commerce  of  all  climes.  Thus  war  proffered 
to  England  security  and  wealth.  It  promised  the  commercial  ruin  of  a 
dreaded  rival,  whose  rapid  strides  toward  opulence  and  power  had  excited 
the  most  intense  alarm.  The  temptation  thus  presented  to  the  British  cab- 
inet to  renew  the  war  was  powerful  in  the  extreme.  It  required  more  virtue 
than  ordinarily  falls  to  the  lot  of  cabinets  to  resist.  Unhappily  for  suffering 
humanity,  England  yielded  to  the  temptation,  She  refused  to  fulfill  the 


1803.]  THE  CAMP  AT  BOULOGNE.  407 

stipulations  of  a  treaty  solemnly  ratified,  retained  possession  of  Malta  in 
violation  of  her  plighted  faith,  and  renewed  the  assault  upon  France. 

In  a  communication  which  Napoleon  made  to  the  legislative  bodies  just 
before  the  rupture,  he  said,  "  Two  parties  contend  in  England  for  the  pos- 
session of  power.  One  has  concluded  a  peace.  The  other  cherishes  im- 
placable hatred  against  France.  Hence  arises  this  fluctuation  in  councils 
and  in  measures,  and  this  attitude,  at  one  time  pacific  and  again  menacing 
While  this  strife  continues,  there  are  measures  which  prudence  demands  of 
the  government  of  the  Republic.  Five  hundred  thousand  men  ought  to  be, 
and  will  be,  ready  to  defend  our  country  and  to  avenge  insult.  Strange  ne- 
cessity, which  wicked  passions  impose  upon  two  nations,  who  should  be,  by 
the  same  interests  and  the  same  desires,  devoted  to  peace  !  But  let  us  hope 
for  the  best,  and  believe  that  we  shall  yet  hear  from  the  cabinet  of  England 
the  counsels  of  wisdom  and  the  voice  of  humanity." 

When  Mr.  Fox  was  in  Paris,  he  was  one  day,  with  Napoleon  and  several 
other  gentlemen,  in  the  gallery  of  the  Louvre,  looking  at  a  magnificent  globe, 
of  unusual  magnitude,  which  had  been  deposited  in  the  museum.  Some  one 
remarked  upon  the  very  small  space  which  the  island  of  Great  Britain  seem- 
ed to  occupy.  "  Yes,"  said  Mr.  Fox,  as  he  approached  the  globe,  and  at- 
tempted to  encircle  it  in  his  extended  arms,  "  England  is  a  small  island,  but 
with  her  power  she  girdles  the  world." 


SCENE   IN    THE    LOUVRE. 


This  was  not  an  empty  boast.  Her  possessions  were  every  where.  In 
Spain,  in  the  Mediterranean,  in  the  East  Indies  and  West  Indies,  in  Asia, 
Africa,  and  America,  and  over  innumerable  islands  of  the  ocean,  she  extend- 
ed her  sceptre.  Rome,  in  her  proudest  day  of  grandeur,  never  swayed  such 
power.  To  Napoleon,  consequently,  it  seemed  but  mere  trifling  for  this  En- 
gland to  complain  that  the  infant  republic  of  France,  struggling  against  the 
hostile  monarchies  of  Europe,  was  endangering  the  world  by  her  ambition, 


408 


NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE. 


[CHAP.  XXVI. 

because  she  had  obtained  an  influence  in  Piedmont,  in  the  Cisalpine  Repub- 
lic, in  the  feeble  Duchy  of  Parma,  and  had  obtained  the  island  of  Elba  for 
a  colony.  To  the  arguments  and  remonstrances  of  Napoleon  England  could 
make  no  reply  but  by  the  broadsides  of  her  ships. 

"You  are  seated,"  said  England,  "upon  the  throne  of  the  exiled  Bourbons." 

"And  your  king,"  Napoleon  replies,  "is  on  the  throne  of  the  exiled 
Stuarts." 

"  But  the  First  Consul  of  France  is  also  President  of  the  Cisalpine  Re- 
public," England  rejoins. 

"And  the  King  of  England,"  Napoleon  adds,  "is  also  Elector  of  Hanover." 

"Your  troops  are  in  Switzerland,"  England  continues. 

"  And  yours,"  Napoleon  replies,  "  are  in  Spain,  having  fortified  themselves 
upon  the  rock  of  Gibraltar." 

"  You  are  ambitious,  and  trying  to  establish  foreign  colonies,"  England  re- 
joins. 

"  But  you,"  Napoleon  replies,  "  have  ten  colonies  where  we  have  one." 

"  We  believe"  England  says,  " that  you  desire  to  appropriate  to  yourself 
Egypt." 

"  You  have,"  Napoleon  retorts,  "  appropriated  to  yourself  India." 

Indignantly  England  exclaims,  "  Nelson,  bring  on  the  fleet !  Wellington, 
head  the  army  !  This  man  must  be  put  down.  His  ambition  endangers  the 
liberties  of  the  world.  Historians  of  England  !  inform  the  nations  that  the 
usurper  Bonaparte,  by  his  arrogance  and  aggression,  is  deluging  the  Conti- 
nent with  blood." 

Immediately  on  the  withdrawal  of  the  British  embassador  from  Paris,  and 
even  before  the  departure  of  the  French  minister  from  London,  England, 
without  any  public  declaration  of  hostilities,  commenced  her  assaults  upon 
France.  The  merchant  ships  of  the  Republic,  unsuspicious  of  danger, 


SEA    COMBAT. 


freighted  with  treasure,  were  seized,  even  in  the  harbors  of  England,  and 
wherever  they  could  be  found,  by  the  vigilant  and  almost  omnipresent  navy 
of  the  Queen  of  the  Seas.  Two  French  ships  of  war  were  attacked  and 


1803.J  THE  CAMP  AT  BOULOGNE.  40g 

captured.     These  disastrous  tidings  were  the  first  intimation  that  Napoleon 
received  that  the  war  was  renewed. 

The  indignation  of  the  First  Consul  was  thoroughly  aroused.  The  retali- 
ating blow  he  struck,  though  merited,  yet  terrible,  was  characteristic  of  the 
man.  At  midnight  he  summoned  to  his  presence  the  Minister  of  Police,  and 
ordered  the  arrest  of  every  Englishman  in  France  between  the  ages  of 
eighteen  and  sixty.  These  were  all  to  be  detained  as  hostages  for  the  pris- 
oners England  had  captured  upon  the  seas.  The  tidings  of  this  decree  rolled 
a  billow  of  woe  over  the  peaceful  homes  of  England ;  for  there  were  thou- 
sands of  travelers  upon  the  Continent,  unapprehensive  of  danger,  supposing 
that  war  would  be  declared  before  hostilities  would  be  resumed.  These 
were  the  first-fruits  of  that  terrific  conflict  into  which  the  world  again  was 
plunged. 

No  tongue  can  tell  the  anguish  thus  caused  in  thousands  of  homes.  Most 
of  the  travelers  were  gentlemen  of  culture  and  refinement — husbands,  fathers, 
sons,  brothers — who  were  visiting  the  Continent  for  pleasure.  During  twelve 
weary  years  these  hapless  men  lingered  in  exile.  Many  died  and  moulder- 
ed to  the  dust  in  France.  Children  grew  to  manhood,  strangers  to  their  im- 
prisoned fathers,  knowing  not  even  whether  they  were  living  or  dead.  Wives 
and  daughters,  in  desolated  homes,  through  lingering  years  of  suspense  and 
agony,  sank  in  despair  into  the  grave.  The  hulks  of  England  were  also 
filled  with  the  husbands  and  fathers  of  France,  and  beggary  and  starvation 
reigned  in  a  thousand  cottages,  clustered  in  the  valleys  and  along  the  shores 
of  the  Republic,  where  peace  and  contentment  might  have  dwelt  but  for  this 
horrible  and  iniquitous  strife.  As  in  all  such  cases,  the  woes  fell  mainly 
upon  the  innocent — upon  those  homes  where  matrons  and  maidens  wept  away 
years  of  agony. 

The  imagination  is  appalled  in  contemplating  this  melancholy  addition  to 
the  ordinary  miseries  of  war.  William  Pitt,  whose  genius  inspired  this 
strife,  was  a  man  of  gigantic  intellect,  of  gigantic  energy.  But  he  was  an 
entire  stranger  to  all  those  kindly  sensibilities  which  add  lustre  to  human 
nature.  He  was  neither  a  father  nor  a  husband,  and  no  emotions  of  gen- 
tleness, of  tenderness,  of  affection,  ever  ruffled  the  calm,  cold,  icy  surface  of 
his  soul. 

The  order  to  seize  all  the  English  in  France  was  thus  announced  in  the 
Moniteur :  "  The  government  of  the  Republic,  having  heard  read,  by  the 
Minister  of  Marine  and  Colonies,  a  dispatch  from  the  maritime  prefect  at 
Brest,  announcing  that  two  English  frigates  had  taken  two  merchant  vessels 
in  the  Bay  of  Audrieu,  without  any  previous  declaration  of  war,  and  in  mani- 
fest violation  of  the  law  of  nations  : 

"  All  the  English,  from  the  ages  of  eighteen  to  sixty,  or  holding  any  com- 
mission from  his  Britannic  majesty,  who  are  at  present  in  France,  shall  im- 
mediately be  constituted  prisoners  of  war,  to  answer  for  those  citizens  of  the 
Republic  who  may  have  been  arrested  and  made  prisoners  by  the  vessels  or 
subjects  of  his  Britannic  majesty  previous  to  any  declaration  of  hostilities. 

(Signed)  .      "  BONAPARTE." 

Napoleon  treated  the  captives  whom  he  had  taken  with  great  humanity, 
holding  as  prisoners  of  war  only  those  who  were  in  the  military  service, 


410  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.  [CHAP.  XXVI. 

while  the  rest  were  detained  in  fortified  places  on  their  parole,  with  much 
personal  liberty.  The  English  held  the  French  prisoners  in  floating  hulks, 
crowded  together  in  a  state  of  inconceivable  suffering.  Napoleon  at  times 
felt  that,  for  the  protection  of  the  French  captives  in  England,  he  ought  to 
retaliate,  by  visiting  similar  inflictions  upon  the  English  prisoners  in  France. 
It  was  not  an  easy  question  for  a  humane  man  to  settle.  But  instinctive 
kindness  prevailed,  and  Napoleon  spared  the  unhappy  victims  who  were  in 
his  power.  The  cabinet  of  St.  James  remonstrated  energetically  against 
Napoleon's  capture  of  peaceful  travelers  upon  the  land. 

Napoleon  replied,  "  You  have  seized  unsuspecting  voyagers  upon  the  sea." 

England  rejoined,  "  It  is  customary  to  capture  every  thing  we  can  find 
upon  the  ocean  belonging  to  an  enemy,  and  therefore  it  is  right." 

Napoleon  answered,  "  I  will  make  it  customary  to  do  the  same  thing  upon 
the  land,  and  then  that  also  will  be  right." 

There  the  argument  ended.  But  the  poor  captives  were  still  pining  away 
in  the  hulks  of  England,  or  wTandering  in  sorrow  around  the  fortresses  of 
France.  Napoleon  proposed  to  exchange  the  travelers  he  had  taken  upon 
the  land  for  the  voyagers  the  English  had  taken  upon  the  sea ;  but  the  cab- 
inet of  St.  James,  asserting  that  such  an  exchange  would  sanction  the  valid- 
ity of  their  capture,  refused  the  humane  proposal,  and  heartlessly  left  the 
captives  of  the  two  nations  to  their  terrible  fate.  Napoleon  assured  the  de- 
tained of  his  sympathy,  but  informed  them  that  their  destiny  was  entirely  in 
the  hands  of  their  own  government,  and  to  that  alone  they  must  appeal. 

"Your  ministers,"  said  Napoleon  at  St.  Helena,  "made  a  great  outcry 
about  the  English  travelers  whom  I  detained  in  France,  although  they  them- 
selves had  set  the  example  by  seizing  upon  all  the  French  vessels,  and  per- 
sons on  board  of  them,  upon  whom  they  could  lay  their  hands,  either  in  their 
harbors  or  at  sea,  before  the  declaration  of  war,  and  before  I  had  detained 
the  English  in  France.  I  said  then,  if  you  detain  my  travelers  at  sea,  where 
you  can  do  what  you  like,  J  will  detain  yours  on  the  land,  where  I  am  equally 
powerful.  But  after  this  I  offered  to  release  all  the  English  I  had  seized  in 
France  before  the  declaration  of  war,  provided  you  would,  in  like  manner, 
release  the  French  and  their  property  which  you  had  seized  on  board  the 
ships.  This  your  ministers  refused.  Your  ministers  never  publish  all  the 
truth  unless  when  they  can  not  avoid  it,  or  when  they  know  that  it  will  come 
to  the  knowledge  of  the  public  through  other  channels.  In  other  cases  they 
turn,  disguise,  or  suppress  every  thing,  as  best  answers  their  views." 

Such  is  war,  even  when  conducted  by  two  nations  as  enlightened  and  hu- 
mane as  England  and  France.  Such  is  that  horrible  system  of  retaliation 
which  war  necessarily  engenders.  This  system  of  reprisals,  visiting  upon 
the  innocent  the  crimes  of  the  guilty,  is  the  fruit  which  ever  ripens  when 
war  buds  and  blossoms.  Napoleon  had  received  a  terrific  blow.  With  in- 
stinctive and  stupendous  power  he  returned  it.  Both  nations  were  now  ex- 
asperated to  the  highest  degree.  The  most  extraordinary  vigor  was  infused 
into  the  deadly  strife.  The  power  and  the  genius  of  France  was  concen- 
trated in  the  ruler  whom  the  almost  unanimous  voice  of  France  had  elevated 
to  the  supreme  power.  Consequently,  the  war  assumed  the  aspect  of  an  as- 
sault upon  an  individual  man  France  was  quite  unprepared  for  this  sudden 


1803.]  THE  CAMP  AT  BOULOGNE.  41 ! 

resumption  of  hostilities.  Napoleon  had  needed  all  the  resources  of  the  state 
for  his  great  works  of  internal  improvement.  Large  numbers  of  troops  had 
been  disbanded,  and  the  army  was  on  a  peace  establishment. 

All  France  was,  however,  roused  by  the  sleepless  energy  of  Napoleon. 
The  Electorate  of  Hanover  was  one  of  the  European  possessions  of  the  King 
of  England.  Ten  days  had  not  elapsed,  after  the  first  broadside  from  the 
British  ships  had  been  heard,  ere  a  French  army  of  twenty  thousand  men 
invaded  Hanover,  captured  its  army  of  16,000  troops,  with  400  pieces  of 
cannon,  30,000  muskets,  and  3500  superb  horses,  and  took  entire  possession 
of  the  province.  The  King  of  England  was  deeply  agitated  when  he  re- 
ceived the  tidings  of  this  sudden  loss  of  his  patrimonial  dominions. 

The  First  Consul  immediately  sent  new  offers  of  peace  to  England,  stat- 
ing that  in  the  conquest  of  Hanover  "  he  had  only  in  view  to  obtain  pledges 
for  the  evacuation  of  Malta,  and  to  secure  the  execution  of  the  treaty  of 
Amiens."  The  British  minister  coldly  replied  that  his  sovereign  would  ap- 
peal for  aid  to  the  German  empire. 

"  If  a  general  peace  is  ever  concluded,"  said  Napoleon  often,  "  then  only 
shall  I  be  able  to  show  myself  such  as  I  am,  and  become  the  moderator  of 
Europe.  France  is  enabled,  by  her  high  civilization,  and  the  absence  of  all 
aristocracy,  to  moderate  the  extreme  demands  of  the  two  principles  which 
divide  the  world  by  placing  herself  between  them ;  thus  preventing  a  gen- 
eral conflagration,  of  which  none  of  us  can  see  the  end  or  guess  the  issue 
For  this  I  want  ten  years  of  peace,  and  the  English  oligarchy  will  not  allow 
it." 

Napoleon  was  forced  into  war  by  the  English.  The  allied  monarchs  of 
Europe  were  roused  to  combine  against  him.  This  compelled  France  to  be- 
come a  camp,  and  forced  Napoleon  to  assume  the  dictatorship.  The  width 
of  the  Atlantic  Ocean  alone  has  saved  the  United  States  from  the  assaults  of 
a  similar  combination. 

It  had  ever  been  one  of  Napoleon's  favorite  projects  to  multiply  colonies, 
that  he  might  promote  the  maritime  prosperity  of  France.  With  this  object 
in  view,  he  purchased  Louisiana  of  Spain.  It  was  his  intention  to  cherish, 
with  the  utmost  care,  upon  the  fertile  banks  of  the  Mississippi,  a  French  colony. 
This  territory,  so  valuable  to  France,  was  now  at  the  mercy  of  England,  and 
would  be  immediately  captured.  Without  loss  of  time,  Napoleon  sold  it  to 
the  United  States.  It  was  a  severe  sacrifice  for  him  to  make,  but  cruel 
necessity  demanded  it. 

The  French  were  every  where  exposed  to  the  ravages  of  the  British  navy. 
Blow  after  blow  fell  upon  France  writh  fearful  vigor,  as  her  cities  were  bom- 
barded, her  colonies  captured,  and  her  commerce  annihilated.  The  superior- 
ity of  the  English  upon  the  sea  was  so  decisive,  that  wherever  the  British 
flag  appeared,  victory  was  almost  invariably  her  own.  But  England  was 
inapproachable.  Guarded  by  her  navy,  she  reposed  in  her  beautiful  island 
in  peace,  while  she  rained  down  destruction  upon  her  foes  in  all  quarters  of 
the  globe.  "  It  is  an  awful  temerity,  my  lord,"  said  Napoleon  to  the  British 
embassador,  "  to  attempt  the  invasion  of  England." 

But  desperate  as  Napoleon  acknowledged  the  undertaking  to  be,  there 
was  nothing  else  which  he  could  even  attempt.  And  he  embarked  in  this 


412 


NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE. 


[CHAP.  XXVL 


OS  TX 


enterprise  with  energy  so  extraordinary,  with  foresight  so  penetrating,  with 
sagacity  so  conspicuous,  that  the  world  looked  upon  his  majestic  movements 
with  amazement,  and  all  England  was  aroused  to  a  sense  of  fearful  peril. 
The  most  gigantic  preparations  were  immediately  made  upon  the  shores  of 
the  Channel  for  the  invasion  of  England.  An  army  of  three  hundred  thou- 
sand men,  as  by  magic,  sprung  into  being.  All  France  was  aroused  to  ac- 
tivity. Two  thousand  gun-boats  were  speedily  built  and  collected  at  Bou- 
logne, to  convey  across  the  narrow  strait  a  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  troops, 

ten  thousand  horses,  and  four  thousand 
pieces  of  cannon.  All  the  foundries 
of  France  were  in  full  blast,  construct- 
ing mortars,  howitzers,  and  artillery  of 
the  largest  calibre.  Every  province 
of  the  Republic  was  aroused  and  in- 
spired by  the  almost  superhuman  en- 
ergies of  the  First  Consul. 

He  attended  to  the  minutest  partic- 
ulars of  all  the  arrangements.  While 
believing  that  destiny  controls  all  things, 
he  seemed  to  leave  nothing  for  destiny 
to  control.  Every  possible  contingency 
was  foreseen  and  guarded  against.  The 
national  enthusiasm  was  so  great,  the 
conviction  was  so  unanimous  that  there 
remained  for  France  no  alternative  but 
by  force  to  repel  aggression,  that  Na- 
poleon proudly  formed  a  legion  of  the 
Vendeean  Royalists,  all  composed,  both 
officers  and  soldiers,  of  those  who  but 
a  few  months  before  had  been  fighting  against  the  Republic.  It  was  a  sub- 
lime assertion  of  his  confidence  in  the  attachment  of  united  France. 

To  meet  the  enormous  expenses  which  this  new  war  involved,  it  was  nec- 
essary to  impose  a  heavy  tax  upon  the  people.  This  was  not  only  borne 
cheerfully,  but  from  all  parts  of  the  Republic  rich  presents  flowed  into  the 
treasury,  tokens  of  the  affection  of  France  for  the  First  Consul,  and  of  the 
deep  conviction  of  the  community  of  the  righteousness  of  the  cause  in  which 
they  were  engaged.  One  of  the  departments  of  the  state  built  and  equipped 
a  frigate,  and  sent  it  to  Boulogne  as  a  free  gift.  The  impulse  was  electric. 
All  over  France  the  whole  people  rose,  and  vied  with  each  other  in  their  of- 
ferings of  good-will.  Small  towns  gave  flat-bottomed  boats,  larger  towns 
frigates,  and  the  more  important  cities  ships  of  the  line.  Paris  gave  a  ship 
of  120  guns,  Lyons  one  of  100,  Bordeaux  an  84,  and  Marseilles  a  74.  Even 
the  Italian  Republic,  as  a  token  of  its  gratitude,  sent  one  million  dollars  to 
build  two  ships  :  one  to  be  called  the  President,  and  the  other  the  Italian 
Republic.  All  the  mercantile  houses  and  public  bodies  made  liberal  pres- 
ents. The  Senate  gave  for  its  donation  a  ship  of  120  guns.  These  free 
gifts  amounted  to  over  ten  millions  of  dollars. 

Napoleon  established  himself  at  Boulogne,  where  he  spent  much  of  his 


THE    CAMP    AT    BOULOGNE. 


1803.]  THE  CAMP  AT  BOULOGNE.  413 

time,  carefully  studying  the  features  of  the  coast,  the  varying  phenomena  of 
the  sea,  and  organizing  in  all  its  parts  the  desperate  enterprise  he  contem- 
plated. The  most  rigid  economy,  by  Napoleon's  sleepless  vigilance,  was  in- 
fused into  every  contract,  and  the  strictest  order  pervaded  the  national  finan- 
ces. It  was  impossible  that  strife  so  deadly  should  rage  between  England 
and  France,  and  not  involve  the  rest  of  the  Continent.  Under  these  circum- 
stances, Alexander  of  Russia  entered  a  remonstrance  against  again  enkin- 
dling the  horrid  flames  of  war  throughout  Europe,  and  offered  his  mediation. 

Napoleon  promptly  replied,  "  I  am  ready  to  refer  the  question  to  the  arbi- 
tration of  the  Emperor  Alexander,  and  will  pledge  myself  by  a  bond  to  sub- 
mit to  the  award,  whatever  it  may  be." 

England  declined  the  pacific  offer.  The  cabinet  of  Russia  then  made 
some  proposals  for  the  termination  of  hostilities. 

Napoleon  replied,  "  I  am  still  ready  to  accept  the  personal  arbitration  of 
the  Czar  himself,  for  that  monarch's  regard  to  his  reputation  will  render  him 
just.  But  I  am  not  willing  to  submit  to  a  negotiation  conducted  by  the  Rus- 
sian cabinet  in  a  mariner  not  at  all  friendly  to  France."  He  concluded  with 
the  following  characteristic  words  :  "  The  First  Consul  has  done  every  thing 
to  preserve  peace.  His  efforts  have  been  vain.  He  could  not  refrain  from 
seeing  that  war  was  the  decree  of  destiny.  He  will  make  war,  and  he  will 
not  flinch  before  a  proud  nation  capable  for  twenty  years  of  making  all  the 
powers  of  the  earth  bow  before  it." 

Napoleon  now  resolved  to  visit  Belgium  and  the  departments  of  the  Rhine. 
Josephine  accompanied  him.  He  was  hailed  with  transport  wherever  he  ap- 
peared, and  royal  honors  were  showered  upon  him.  Every  where  his  pres- 
ence drew  forth  manifestations  of  attachment  to  his  person,  hatred  for  the 
English,  and  zeal  to  combat  the  determined  foes  of  France.  But,  wherever 
Napoleon  went,  his  scrutinizing  attention  was  directed  to  the  dock-yards,  the 
magazines,  the  supplies,  and  the  various  resources  and  capabilities  of  the 
country.  Every  hour  was  an  hour  of  toil,  for  toil  seemed  to  be  his  only 
pleasure.  From  this  brief  tour  Napoleon  returned  to  Boulogne. 

The  Straits  of  Calais,  which  Napoleon  contemplated  crossing,  notwith- 
standing the  immense  preponderance  of  the  British  navy  filling  the  Channel, 
is  about  thirty  miles  in  width.  There  were  four  contingencies  which  seemed 
to  render  the  project  not  impossible.  In  summer  there  are  frequent  calms 
in  the  Channel  of  forty-eight  hours'  duration.  During  this  calm  the  English 
ships  of  the  line  would  be  compelled  to  lie  motionless.  The  flat-bottomed 
boats  of  Napoleon,  impelled  by  strong  rowers,  might  then  pass  even  in  sight 
of  the  enemy's  squadron.  In  the  winter  there  were  frequently  dense  fogs, 
unaccompanied  by  any  wind.  Favored  by  the  obscurity  and  the  calm,  a 
passage  might  then  be  practicable.  There  was  still  a  third  chance,  more 
favorable  than  either.  There  were  not  unfrequently  tempests  so  violent  that 
the  English  squadron  would  be  compelled  to  leave  the  Channel  and  stand 
out  to  sea.  Seizing  the  moment  when  the  tempest  subsided,  the  French  flotilla 
might  perhaps  cross  the  Straits  before  the  squadron  could  return.  A  fourth 
chance  offered.  It  was,  by  skillful  combinations  to  concentrate  suddenly  in 
the  Channel  a  strong  French  squadron,  and  to  push  the  flotilla  across  under 
the  protection  of  its  guns.  For  three  ye<irs  Napoleon  consecrated  his  untir- 
VOL.  II.— H 


414  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.  [CHAP.  XXVI. 

mg  energies  to  the  perfection  of  all  the  mechanism  of  this  herculean  enter- 
prise. 

Yet  no  one  was  more  fully  alive  than  himself  to  the  tremendous  hazards 
to  be  encountered.  It  is  impossible  now  to  tell  what  would  have  been  the 
result  of  a  conflict  between  the  English  squadron  and  those  innumerable  gun- 
boats, manned  by  one  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  men,  surrounding  in  swarms 
every  ship-of-the-line,  piercing  them  in  every  direction  with  their  guns,  and 
sweeping  their  decks  with  a  storm  of  bullets,  while  in  their  turn  they  were 
run  down  by  the  large  ships  dashing  in  full  sail  through  their  midst,  sinking 
some  in  their  crushing  onset,  and  blowing  others  out  of  the  water  with  their 
tremendous  broadsides.  "By  sacrificing  100  gun-boats  and  10,000  men," 
said  Admiral  Decres,  a  man  disposed  to  magnify  difficulties,  "it  is  not  im- 
probable that  we  may  repel  the  assault  of  the  enemy's  squadron,  and  cross 
the  Straits." 

•'  One  loses,"  said  Napoleon,  "  that  number  in  battle  every  day.  And 
what  battle  ever  promised  the  results  which  a  landing  in  England  authorizes 
us  to  hope  for?" 

The  amount  of  business  now  resting  upon  the  mind  of  Napoleon  seems  in- 
credible. He  was  personally  attending  to  all  the  complicated  diplomacy  of 
Europe.  Spain  was  professing  friendship  and  alliance,  and  yet  treacher- 
ously engaged  in  acts  of  hostility.  Charles  IV.,  perhaps  the  most  contempti- 
ble monarch  who  ever  wore  a  crown,  was  then  upon  the  throne  of  Spain. 
His  wife  was  a  shameless  libertine.  Her  paramour,  Godoy,  called  the  Prince 
of  Peace,  a  weak-minded,  conceited,  worn-out  debauchee,  governed  the  de- 
graded empire.  Napoleon  remonstrated  against  the  perfidy  of  Spain,  and 
the  wrongs  France  was  receiving  at  her  hands.  The  miserable  Godoy  re- 
turned an  answer,  mean-spirited,  hypocritical,  and  sycophantic.  Napoleon 
sternly  shook  his  head,  and  ominously  exclaimed,  "All  this  will  yet  end  in  a 
clap  of  thunder." 

In  the  midst  of  these  scenes,  Napoleon  was  continually  displaying  those 
generous  and  magnanimous  traits  of  character  which  won  the  enthusiastic 
love  of  all  who  knew  him.  On  one  occasion  a  young  English  sailor  had 
escaped  from  imprisonment  in  the  interior  of  France,  and  had  succeeded  in 
reaching  the  coast  near  Boulogne.  Secretly  he  had  constructed  a  little  skiff 
of  the  branches  and  the  bark  of  trees,  as  fragile  as  the  ark  of  bulrushes. 
Upon  this  frail  float,  which  would  scarcely  buoy  up  his  body,  he  was  about 
to  venture  out  upon  the  stormy  Channel,  with  the  chance  of  being  picked  up 
by  some  English  cruiser.  Napoleon,  informed  of  the  desperate  project  of 
the  young  man,  who  was  arrested  in  the  attempt,  was  struck  with  admiration 
in  view  of  the  fearless  enterprise,  and  ordered  the  prisoner  to  be  brought  be- 
fore him. 

"  Did  you  really  intend,"  inquired  Napoleon,  "  to  brave  the  terrors  of  the 
ocean  in  so  frail  a  skiff?" 

"If  you  will  but  grant  me  permission,"  said  the  young  man,  "I  will  em- 
bark immediately." 

"  You  must  doubtless,  then,  have  some  mistress  to  revisit,  since  you  are 
so  desirous  to  return  to  your  country?" 

"  I  wish,"  replied  the  noble  sailor,  "  to  see  my  mother.  She  is  aged, 
poor,  and  infirm." 


1804.]  THE  CAMP  AT  BOULOGNE.  415 

The  heart  of  Napoleon  was  touched.  "  You  shall  see  her,"  he  energet- 
ically replied  ;  "  and  present  to  her  from  me  this  purse  of  gold.  She  must 
be  no  common  mother  who  can  have  trained  up  so  affectionate  and  dutiful 
a  son." 

He  immediately  gave  orders  that  the  young  sailor  should  be  furnished 
with  every  comfort,  and  sent  in  a  cruiser,  with  a  flag  of  truce,  to  the  first 
British  vessel  that  could  be  found.  When  one  thinks  of  the  moral  sublimi- 
ty of  the  meeting  of  the  English  and  French  ships  under  these  circumstances, 
with  the  white  flag  of  humanity  and  peace  fluttering  in  the  breeze,  one  can 
not  but  mourn  with  more  intensity  over  the  horrid  barbarity  and  brutality  of 
savage  war.  Perhaps  in  the  next  interview  between  these  twro  ships  they 
fought  for  hours,  hurling  bullets  and  balls  through  the  quivering  nerves,  and 
lacerated  sinews,  and  mangled  frames  of  brothers,  husbands,  and  fathers. 

Napoleon's  labors  at  this  time  in  the  cabinet  were  so  enormous,  dictating 
to  his  agents  in  all  parts  of  France,  and  to  his  embassadors  all  over  Europe, 
that  he  kept  three  secretaries  constantly  employed.  One  of  these  young 
men,  who  was  lodged  and  boarded  in  the  palace,  received  a  salary  of  1200 
dollars  a  year.  Unfortunately,  however,  he  had  become  deeply  involved  in 
debt,  and  was  incessantly  harassed  by  the  importunities  of  his  creditors. 
Knowing  Napoleon's  strong  disapprobation  of  all  irregularities,  he  feared 
utter  ruin  should  the  knowledge  of  the  facts  reach  his  ears.  One  morning, 
after  having  passed  a  sleepless  night,  he  rose  at  the  early  hour  of  five,  and 
sought  refuge  from  his  distraction  in  commencing  work  in  the  cabinet.  But 
Napoleon,  who  had  already  been  at  work  for  some  time,  in  passing  the  door 
of  the  cabinet  to  go  to  his  bath,  heard  the  young  man  humming  a  tune. 

Opening  the  door,  he  looked  in  upon  his  young  secretary,  and  said,  with  a 
smile  of  satisfaction,  "What !  so  early  at  your  desk  !  Why,  this  is  very  ex- 
emplary. We  ought  to  be  well  satisfied  with  such  service.  What  salary 
have  you  ?" 

"  Twelve  hundred  dollars,  sire,"  was  the  reply. 

"Indeed  !"  said  Napoleon  ;  "that,  for  one  of  your  age,  is  very  handsome. 
And,  in  addition,  I  think  you  have  your  board  and  lodging  ?" 

"I  have,  sire." 

"Well,  I  do  not  wonder  that  you  sing.     You  must  be  a  very  happy  man." 

"Alas !  sire,"  he  replied,  "  I  ought  to  be,  but  I  am  not." 

"  And  why  not  ?" 

"Because,  sire,"  he  replied,  "  I  have  too  many  English  tormenting  me. 
I  have  also  an  aged  father,  who  is  almost  blind,  and  a  sister  who  is  not  yet 
married,  dependent  upon  me  for  support." 

"But,  sir,"  Napoleon  rejoined,  "in  supporting  your  father  and  your  sister, 
you  do  only  that  which  every  good  son  should  do.  But  what  have  you  to 
do  with  the  English  ?" 

"They  are  those,"  the  young  man  answered,  "who  have  loaned  me  money, 
which  I  am  not  able  to  repay.  All  those  who  are  in  debt  call  their  creditors 
the  English" 

" Enough !  enough !  I  understand  you.  You  are  in  debt,  then?  And  how 
is  it  that  with  such  a  salary  you  run  into  debt  ?  I  wish  to  have  no  man 
about  my  person  who  has  recourse  to  the  gold  of  the  English.  From  this 


416 


NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE. 


[CHAP.  XXVI. 


hour  you  will  receive  your  dismission.  Adieu,  sir !"  Saying  this,  Napoleon 
left  the  room  and  returned  to  his  chamber.  The  young  man  was  stupefied 
with  despair. 

But  a  few  moments  elapsed  when  an  aid  entered  and  gave  him  a  note, 
saying,  "It  is  from  Napoleon."  Trembling  with  agitation,  and  not  doubting 
that  it  confirmed  his  dismissal,  he  opened  it  and  read, 

"  I  have  wished  to  dismiss  you  from  my  cabinet,  for  you  deserve  it ;  but  I 
have  thought  of  your  aged  and  blind  father,  and  of  your  young  sister,  and,  for 
their  sake,  I  pardon  you.  And,  since  they  are  the  ones  who  must  most  suf- 
fer from  your  misconduct,  I  send  you,  with  leave  of  absence  for  one  day 
only,  the  sum  of  two  thousand  dollars.  With  this  sum  disembarrass  your- 
self immediately  of  all  the  English  who  trouble  you,  and  hereafter  conduct 
yourself  in  such  a  manner  as  not  to  fall  into  their  power.  Should  you  fail  in 
this,  I  shall  give  you  leave  of  absence  without  permission  to  return." 

Upon  the  bleak  cliff  of  Boulogne,  swept  by  the  storm  and  the  rain,  Napo- 
leon  had  a  little  hut  erected  for  himself.  Often,  leaving  the  palace  of  St. 
Cloud  by  night,  after  having  spent  a  toilsome  day  in  the  cares  of  state,  he 
passed  with  the  utmost  rapidity  over  the  intervening  space  of  180  miles. 
Arriving  about  the  middle  of  the  next  day,  apparently  unconscious  of  fatigue, 
he  examined  every  thing  before  he  allowed  himself  a  moment  of  sleep.  The 
English  exerted  all  their  energies  to  impede  the  progress  of  the  majestic 
enterprise.  Their  cruisers,  incessantly  hovering  around,  kept  up  an  almost 
uninterrupted  fire  upon  the  works.  Their  shells,  passing  over  the  cliff,  ex- 
ploded in  the  harbor  and  in  the  crowded  camps.  The  laborers,  inspired  by 
the  presence  of  Napoleon,  continued  proudly  their  toil,  singing  as  they  work, 
ed,  while  the  balls  of  the  English  were  flying  around  them. 


NAPOLEON'S  HUT  AT  BOULOGNE. 


For  their  protection,  Napoleon  finally  constructed  large  batteries,  which 
would  throw  twenty-four  pound  shot  three  miles,  and  thus  kept  the  English 
ships  at  that  distance.  It  would,  however,  require  a  volume  to  describe  the 
magnitude  of  the  works  constructed  at  Boulogne.  Napoleon  was  indefati- 
gable in  his  exertions  to  promote  the  health  and  the  comfort  of  the  soldiers. 


1804.]  THE  CAMP  AT  BOULOGNE.  417 

They  were  all  well  paid,  warmly  clothed,  fed  with  an  abundance  of  nutri- 
tious food,  and  their  camp,  divided  into  quarters  traversed  by  long  streets, 
presented  the  cheerful  aspect  of  a  neat,  thriving,  well-ordered  city.  The 
soldiers,  thus  protected,  enjoyed  perfect  health,  and,  full  of  confidence  in  the 
enterprise  for  which  they  were  preparing,  hailed  their  beloved  leader  with 
the  most  enthusiastic  acclamations  whenever  he  appeared. 

Spacious  as  were  the  quays  erected  at  Boulogne,  it  was  not  possible  to 
range  all  the  vessels  alongside.  They  were  consequently  placed  nine  deep, 
the  first  one  only  touching  the  quays.  A  horse,  with  a  band  passing  round 
him,  was  raised  by  means  of  a  pulley,  transmitted  nine  times  from  yard  to 
yard,  as  he  was  borne  aloft  in  the  air,  and  in  about  two  minutes  was  depos- 
ited in  the  ninth  vessel.  By  constant  repetition,  the  embarkation  and  dis- 
embarkation was  accomplished  with  almost  inconceivable  promptness  and 
precision.  In  all  weather,  in  summer  and  winter,  unless  it  blew  a  gale,  the 
boats  went  out  to  maneuver  in  the  presence  of  the  enemy.  The  exercise  of 
landing  from  the  boats  along  the  cliff  was  almost  daily  performed.  The 
men  first  swept  the  shore  by  a  steady  fire  of  artillery  from  the  boats,  and 
then,  approaching  the  beach,  landed  men,  horses,  and  cannon.  There  was 
not  an  accident  which  could  happen  in  landing  on  an  enemy's  coast,  except 
the  fire  from  hostile  batteries,  which  was  not  thus  provided  against,  and  often 
braved.  In  all  these  exciting  scenes  the  First  Consul  was  every  where  pres- 
ent. The  soldiers  saw  him  now  on  horseback  upon  the  cliff,  gazing  proudly 
upon  their  heroic  exertions ;  again  he  was  galloping  over  the  hard,  smooth 
sands  of  the  beach,  and  again  on  board  one  of  the  gun-boats,  going  out  to 
try  her  powers  in  a  skirmish  with  one  of  the  British  cruisers. 

Frequently  he  persisted  in  braving  serious  danger,  and  at  one  time,  when 
visiting  the  anchorage  in  a  violent  gale,  the  boat  was  swamped  near  the 
shore.  The  sailors  threw  themselves  into  the  sea,  and  bore  him  safely 
through  the  billows  to  the  land.  It  is  not  strange  that  those  who  had  seen 
the  kings  of  France  squandering  the  revenues  of  the  realm  to  minister  to 
their  own  voluptuousness  and  debauchery,  should  have  regarded  Napoleon 
as  belonging  to  a  different  race.  One  day,  when  the  atmosphere  was  pecu- 
liarly clear,  Napoleon,  upon  the  cliffs  of  Boulogne,  saw  dimly  in  the  distant 
horizon  the  outline  of  the  English  shore.  Roused  by  the  sight,  he  wrote 
thus  to  Cambaceres  :  "From  the  heights  of  Ambleteuse  I  have  seen  this  day 
the  coast  of  England,  as  one  sees  the  heights  of  Calvary  from  the  Tuileries. 
We  could  distinguish  the  houses  and  the  bustle.  It  is  a  ditch  that  shall  be 
leaped  when  one  is  daring  enough  to  try." 

Napoleon,  though  one  of  the  most  bold  of  men  in  his  conceptions,  was  also 
the  most  cautious  and  prudent  in  their  execution.  He  had  made,  in  his  own 
mind,  arrangements,  unrevealed  to  any  one,  suddenly  to  concentrate  in  the 
Channel  the  whole  French  squadron,  which,  in  the  harbors  of  Toulon,  Ferrol, 
and  La  Rochelle,  had  been  thoroughly  equipped,  to  act  in  unexpected  con- 
cert with  the  vast  flotilla.  "  Eight  hours  of  night,"  said  he,  "  favorable  for 
us,  will  now  decide  the  fate  of  the  world." 

England,  surprised  at  the  magnitude  of  these  preparations,  began  to  be 
seriously  alarmed.  She  had  imagined  her  ocean-engirdled  isle  to  be  in  a 
state  of  perfect  security.  Now  she  learned  that  within  thirty  miles  of  her 


418  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.  [CHAP.  XXVI. 

coast  an  army  of  one  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  most  highly-disciplined 
troops  was  assembled,  that  more  than  two  thousand  gun-boats  were  prepared 
to  transport  this  host,  with  ten  thousand  horses,  and  four  thousand  pieces  of 
cannon,  across  the  Channel,  and  that  Napoleon,  who  had  already  proved 
himself  to  be  the  greatest  military  genius  of  any  age,  was  to  head  this  army 
on  its  march  to  London.  The  idea  of  one  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  men, 
led  by  Bonaparte,  was  enough  even  to  make  the  most  powerful  nation  shud- 
der. The  British  naval  officers  almost  unanimously  expressed  the  opinion 
that  it  was  impossible  to  be  secure  against  a  descent  on  the  English  coast 
by  the  French,  under  favor  of  a  fog,  a  calm,  or  a  long  winter's  night.  The 
debates  in  Parliament  as  to  the  means  of  resisting  the  danger  were  anxious 
and  stormy.  A  vote  was  passed  authorizing  the  ministers  to  summon  all 
Englishmen,  between  the  ages  of  seventeen  and  fifty -five,  to  arms.  In  every 
country  town,  the  whole  population  were  seen,  every  morning,  exercising  for 
war.  The  aged  king,  George  III.,  reviewed  these  raw  troops,  accompanied 
by  the  exiled  Bourbon  princes,  who  wished  to  recover,  by  the  force  of  the 
arms  of  foreigners,  that  throne  from  which  they  had  been  ejected  by  the 
will  of  the  people. 

From  the  Isle  of  Wight  to  the  mouth  of  the  Thames,  a  system  of  signals 
was  arranged  to  give  the  alarm.  Upon  the  slightest  intimation  of  danger, 
beacon-fires  were  to  blaze  at  night  on  every  headland.  Carriages  were  con- 
structed for  the  rapid  conveyance  of  troops  to  any  threatened  point.  Moth- 
ers and  maidens  in  beautiful,  happy  England,  placed  their  heads  upon  their 
pillows  in  terror,  for  the  bloodhounds  of  war  were  unleashed,  and  England 
had  unleashed  them.  She  suffered  bitterly  for  the  crime;  she  suffers  still, 
in  that  enormous  burden  of  taxes  which  the  ensuing  years  of  war  and  woe 
have  bequeathed  to  her  children. 

There  was  ample  cause  for  this  alarm.  Napoleon,  justly  exasperated,  had 
determined  to  bring  the  war  to  a  crisis.  He  was  making  arrangements  for 
the  invasion  on  a  scale  such  as  the  world  had  never  witnessed  before.  It 
was,  indeed,  necessary  to  defend  the  coast  of  England.  The  Duke  of  Wel- 
lington stated  in  1847,  "I  have  examined  and  reconnoitered,  over  and  over 
again,  the  whole  coast  from  the  North  Foreland  to  Selsy  Bill,  near  Ports- 
mouth, and  I  say  that,  excepting  immediately  under  the  fire  of  Dover  Cas- 
tle, there  is  not  a  spot  on  the  coast  on  which  infantry  might  not  be  thrown 
on  shore,  at  any  time  of  tide,  with  any  wind,  and  in  any  weather,  and  from 
which  such  a  body  of  infantry,  so  thrown  on  shore,  would  not  find,  within 
the  distance  of  five  miles,  a  road  into  the  interior  of  the  country.  In  that 
space  of  coast,  there  are  not  less  than  seven  small  harbors,  or  mouths  of  riv- 
ers, and  without  defense,  of  which  an  enemy,  having  landed  his  infantry  on 
the  coast,  might  take  possession,  and  therein  land  his  cavalry  and  artillery 
of  all  calibre,  and  establish  himself  and  his  communications  with  France."* 

Under  these  circumstances,  the  British  government  lent  its  most  efficient 
aid  to  those  royal  conspirators  in  London  who  were  plotting  the  assassination 
of  Napoleon.  They  were  supplied  with  funds  by  the  British  ministry,  and 
the  ships  of  Great  Britain  were  at  their  service  to  land  them  on  the  French 
coast.  The  infamous  George  Cadoudal,  already  implicated  in  the  horrible 

*  North  British  Review,  No. 


1804.]  THE  BOURBON  CONSPIRACY.  419 

butchery  of  the  infernal  machine,  was  still  living  in  London  with  the  French 
refugees  in  a  state  of  opulence  from  the  money  furnished  by  the  British  gov- 
ernment. The  Count  d'Artois,  subsequently  Charles  X. ;  his  son,  the  Duke 
de  Berri ;  their  kinsman,  the  father  of  the  Duke  d'Enghien,  and  many  other 
persons,  prominent  in  the  Bourbon  interests,  were  intimately  associated  with 
this  brawny  assassin  in  the  attempts,  by  any  means,  fair  or  foul,  to  crush 
the  man  who  had  ventured  to  recognize  the  suffrages  of  the  nation  as  a  fair 
title  to  the  chief  magistracy  of  France.  The  English  government  supplied 
these  conspirators  liberally  with  money,  asking  no  questions,  for  conscience' 
sake,  respecting  the  details  of  their  plans. 

The  Duke  d'Enghien,  son  of  the  Duke  of  Bourbon,  was  a  bold  soldier, 
about  thirty-four  years  of  age.  He  had  stationed  himself  at  Ettenheim,  a 
village  in  the  territory  of  the  Grand  Duke  of  Baden,  a  short  distance  over 
the  Rhine.  At  this  place,  he  was  distant  but  nineteen  miles  from  Stras- 
bourg, the  frontier  city  of  France  in  that  direction.  At  several  outposts  in 
the  neighbouring  states  there  were  English  ministers  or  agents  ready  to  co- 
operate in  the  various  endeavors  for  the  overthrow  of  Napoleon.  Drake  was 
at  Munich,  Spencer  Smith  at  Stuttgard,  Taylor  at  Cassel,  Wickham  at 
Berne,  Rumboldt  at  Hamburg.  These  agents  of  the  British  government 
were  amply  provided  with  funds  to  aid  the  emigrants,  who,  under  English 
pay,  were  hanging  on  the  French  borders,  seeking  in  any  way  the  destruc- 
tion of  the  First  Consul. 

Innumerable  conspiracies  were  formed  by  these  desperate  men  for  the  as- 
sassination of  Napoleon.  More  than  thirty  were  detected  by  the  vigilant  po- 
lice. Napoleon,  at  last,  became  exceedingly  exasperated.  He  felt  that 
England  was  ignominiously  supplying  those  with  funds  whom  she  knew  to 
be  aiming  at  his  assassination.  He  was  indignant  that  the  Bourbon  princes 
should  assume  that  he,  elected  to  the  chief  magistracy  of  France  by  the 
unanimous  voice  of  the  nation,  was  to  be  treated  as  an  outlaw,  to  be  hunted 
down  by  assassins.  "  My  blood,"  he  exclaimed  bitterly,  "  is  not  ditch  wa- 
ter. I  will  one  day  teach  those  Bourbons  a  lesson  which  they  will  not  soon 
forget." 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

THE   BOURBON  CONSPIRACY. 

Conspiracies  in  London — Countenanced  by  the  British  Ministers — Jealousy  of  Moreau — Plan  of 
the  Conspirators — Moreau  and  Pichegru— Clemency  of  Napoleon — Evidence  against  the  Duke 
d'Enghien — Arrest  of  the  Duke — His  Trial — Condemnation — Execution — Trial  of  Moreau — His 
Exile — Testimony  of  Joseph  Bonaparte — Remarks  from  Encyclopaedia  Americana — Extravagant 
Denunciation  of  Lamartine. 

A  CONSPIRACY  was  now  organized  in  London  by  Count  d'Artois,  and  others 
of  the  French  emigrants,  upon  a  gigantic  scale.  Count  de  Lisle,  sometimes 
also  called  Count  de  Provence,  afterward  Louis  XVIII.,  was  then  residing 
at  Warsaw.  The  plot  was  communicated  to  him,  but  he  repulsed  it.  The 
plan  involved  the  expenditure  of  millions,  which  were  furnished  by  the  Brit- 
ish government.  Mr.  Hammond,  under  Secretary  of  State  at  London,  and 


420  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.  [CHAP.  XXYI1. 

the  English  ministers  at  Hesse,  at  Stuttgard,  and  at  Batavia,  all  upon  the 
confines  of  France,  were  in  intimate  communication  with  the  disaffected  in 
France,  endeavoring  to  excite  civil  war.  Three  prominent  French  emigrants, 
the  Princes  of  Conde,  grandfather,  son,  and  grandson,  were  then  in  the  ser- 
vice and  pay  of  Great  Britain,  with  arms  in  their  hands  against  their  coun- 
try, and  ready  to  obey  any  call  for  active  service.  The  grandson,  the  Duke 
d'Enghien,  was  in  the  Duchy  of  Baden,  awaiting,  on  the  banks  of  the  Rhine, 
the  signal  for  his  march  into  France,  and  attracted  to  the  village  of  Etten- 
heim  by  his  attachment  for  a  young  lady  there,  a  Princess  de  Rohan. 

The  plan  of  the  conspirators  was  this  :  A  band  of  a  hundred  resolute  men, 
headed  by  the  daring  and  indomitable  George  Cadoudal,  were  to  be  intro- 
duced stealthily  into  France,  to  waylay  Napoleon  when  passing  to  Malmai- 
son,  disperse  his  guard,  consisting  of  some  ten  outriders,  and  kill  him  upon 
the  spot.  The  conspirators  flattered  themselves  that  this  would  not  be  con- 
sidered assassination,  but  a  battle.  Having  thus  disposed  of  the  First  Con- 
sul, the  next  question  was,  how,  in  the  midst  of  the  confusion  that  would 
ensue,  to  regain  for  the  Bourbons  and  their  partisans  their  lost  power.  To 
do  this,  it  was  necessary  to  secure  the  co-operation  of  the  army. 

"  In  reply  to  some  arguments,"  says  O'Meara,  "  wrhich  I  offered  to  con- 
vince him  that  the  English  ministry  were  ignorant  of  that  part  of  Pichegru's 
plot  which  embraced  assassination,"  Napoleon  replied, 

"  '  I  do  not  suppose  that  any  of  the  English  ministers  actually  said  to 
Georges  or  Pichegru,  "  You  must  kill  the  First  Consul."  But  they  well  knew 
that  such  formed  the  chief,  and,  indeed,  the  only  hope  of  success.  And  yet 
they,  knowing  this,  furnished  them  with  money,  and  provided  ships  to  land 
them  in  France,  which,  to  all  intents  and  purposes,  renders  them  accom- 
plices. If  they  had  been  tried  by  an  English  jury,  they  would  have  been 

condemned  as  such.  Lord took  great  pains  to  persuade  the  foreign 

courts  that  they  were  ignorant  of  the  project  of  assassination,  and  wrote  sev- 
eral letters,  in  which  he  acknowledged  that  the  English  had  landed  men  for 
the  purpose  of  overturning  the  French  government,  but  denied  the  other. 
However,  he  made  a  very  lame  business  of  it,  and  none  of  the  Continental 
governments  gave  any  credit  to  his  assertion.  It  was  naturally  condemned, 
as,  on  the  ground  of  retaliation,  none  of  the  sovereigns  were  safe.  Fox  had 
some  conversation  with  me  on  the  subject.  He,  too,  like  you,  denied  that 
the  ministry  were  privy  to  the  scheme  of  assassination,  but  finally,  after  hear- 
ing what  I  had  to  say,  he  condemned  the  whole  transaction.' " 

In  nothing  is  the  infirmity  of  our  nature  more  conspicuous,  than  in  the 
petty  jealousies  which  so  often  rankle  in  the  bosoms  of  great  men.  General 
Moreau  had  looked  with  an  envious  eye  upon  the  gigantic  strides  of  General 
Bonaparte  to  power.  His  wife,  a  weak,  vain,  envious  woman,  could  not  en- 
dure the  thought  that  General  Moreau  should  be  only  the  second  man  in  the 
empire,  and  she  exerted  all  her  influence  over  her  vacillating  and  unstable 
husband  to  convince  him  that  the  conqueror  of  Hohenlinden  was  entitled  to 
the  highest  gifts  France  had  to  confer. 

One  day,  by  accident,  she  was  detained  a  few  moments  in  the  antecham^ 
her  of  Josephine.  Her  indignation  was  extreme.  General  Moreau  was  in  a 
mood  of  mind  to  yield  to  the  influence  of  these  reproaches.  As  an  indication 


1804.]  THE  BOURBON  CONSPIRACY.  421 

of  his  displeasure,  he  allowed  himself  to  repel  the  favors  which  the  First  Con- 
sul showered  upon  him.  He  at  last  was  guilty  of  the  impropriety  of  refus- 
ing to  attend  the  First  Consul  at  a  review.  In  consequence,  he  was  omitted 
in  an  invitation  to  a  banquet  which  Napoleon  gave  on  the  anniversary  of  the 
Republic.  Thus  coldness  increased  to  hostility.  Moreau,  with  bitter  feel- 
ings, withdrew  to  his  estate  of  Grosbois,  where,  in  the  enjoyment  of  opu- 
lence, he  watched  with  an  evil  eye  the  movements  of  one  whom  he  had  the 
vanity  to  think  his  rival. 

Under  these  circumstances,  it  was  not  thought  difficult  to  win  over  Mo- 
reau, and,  through  him,  the  army.  Then,  at  the  very  moment  when  Napoleon 
had  been  butchered  on  his  drive  to  Malmaison,  the  Loyalists  all  over  France 
were  to  rise  ;  the  emigrant  Bourbons,  with  arms  and  money,  supplied  by  En- 
gland, in  their  hands,  were  to  rush  over  the  frontier ;  the  British  navy  and 
army  were  to  be  ready  with  their  powerful  co-operation ;  and  the  Bourbon 
dynasty  was  to  be  re-established.  Such  was  this  infamous  conspiracy  of 
the  Bourbons. 

But  in  this  plan  there  was  a  serious  difficulty.  Moreau  prided  himself 
upon  being  a  very  decided  Republican,  and  had  denounced  even  the  consu- 
late for  life,  as  tending  to  the  establishment  of  royalty.  Still,  it  was  hoped 
that  the  jealousy  of  his  disposition  would  induce  him  to  engage  in  any  plot 
for  the  overthrow  of  the  First  Consul.  General  Pichegru,  a  man  illustrious 
in  rank  and  talent,  a  warm  advocate  of  the  Bourbons,  and  alike  influential 
with  Monarchists  and  Republicans,  had  escaped  from  the  wilds  of  Sinamary, 
where  he  had  been  banished  by  the  Directory,  and  was  then  residing  in  Lon- 
don. Pichegru  was  drawn  into  the  conspiracy,  and  employed  to  confer  with 
Moreau.  Matters  being  thus  arranged,  Cadoudal,  with  a  band  of  bold  and 
desperate  men,  armed  to  the  teeth,  and  with  an  ample  supply  of  funds, 
which  had  been  obtained  from  the  English  treasury,  set  out  from  London 
for  Paris. 

Upon  the  coast  of  Normandy,  upon  the  side  of  a  precipitous  craggy  cliff, 
ever  washed  by  the  ocean,  there  was  a  secret  passage,  formed  by  a  cleft  in 
the  rock,  known  only  to  smugglers.  Through  the  cleft,  one  or  two  hundred 
feet  in  depth,  a  rope-ladder  could  be  let  down  to  the  surface  of  the  sea.  The 
smugglers  thus  scaled  the  precipice,  bearing  heavy  burdens  upon  their 
shoulders.  Cadoudal  had  found  out  this  path,  and  easily  purchased  its  use. 
To  facilitate  communication  with  Paris,  a  chain  of  lodging-places  had  been 
established  in  solitary  farm-houses  and  in  the  castles  of  Loyalist  nobles,  so 
that  the  conspirators  could  pass  from  the  cliff  of  Biville  to  Paris  without  ex- 
posure  to  the  public  roads  or  to  any  inn.  Captain  Wright,  an  officer  in  the 
English  navy,  a  bold  and  skillful  seaman,  took  the  conspirators  on  board  his 
vessel,  and  secretly  landed  them  at  the  foot  of  this  cliff.  Cautiously,  Ca- 
doudal, with  some  of  his  trusty  followers,  crept  along  from  shelter  to  shel- 
ter until  he  reached  the  suburbs  of  Paris. 

From  his  lurking  place  he  dispatched  emissaries,  bought  by  his  abundance 
of  gold,  to  different  parts  of  France,  to  prepare  the  Royalists  to  rise.  Much 
to  his  disappointment,  he  found  Napoleon  almost  universally  popular,  and 
the  Loyalists  themselves  settling  down  in  contentment  under  his  efficient 
government.  Even  the  priests  were  attached  to  the  First  Consul,  for  he 


422  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.  [CHAP.  XXVIL 

had  rescued  them  from  the  most  unrelenting  persecution.  In  the  course  of 
two  months  of  incessant  exertions,  Cadoudal  was  able  to  collect  but  thirty 
men,  who,  by  liberal  pay,  were  willing  to  run  the  risk  of  trying  to  restore 
the  Bourbons.  While  Cadoudal  was  thus  employed  with  the  Royalists, 
Pichegru  and  his  agents  were  sounding  Moreau  and  the  Republicans.  Gen- 
eral Lajolais,  a  former  officer  of  Moreau,  was  easily  gained  over.  He  drew 
from  Moreau  a  confession  of  his  wounded  feelings,  and  of  his  desire  to  see 
the  consular  government  overthrown  in  almost  any  way.  Lajolais  did  not 
reveal  to  the  illustrious  general  the  details  of  the  conspiracy,  but  hastening 
to  London  by  the  circuitous  route  of  Hamburg,  to  avoid  detection,  told  his 
credulous  employers  that  Moreau  was  ready  to  take  any  part  in  the  en- 
terprise. 

At  the  conferences  now  held  in  London  by  this  band  of  conspirators,  plot- 
ting assassination,  the  Count  d'Artois  had  the  criminal  folly  to  preside — the 
future  monarch  of  France  guiding  the  deliberations  of  a  band  of  assassins. 
When  Lajolais  reported  that  Moreau  was  ready  to  join  Pichegru  the  mo- 
ment he  should  appear,  Charles,  then  Count  d'Artois,  exclaimed  with  de 
light,  "  Ah  !  let  but  our  two  generals  agree  together,  and  1  shall  speedily  be 
restored  to  France  !"  It  was  arranged  that  Pichegru,  Riviere,  and  one  of 
the  Polignacs,  with  others  of  the  conspirators,  should  immediately  join  George 
Cadoudal,  and,  as  soon  as  every  thing  was  ripe,  Charles  and  his  son,  the  Duke 
of  Berri,  were  to  land  in  France,  and  take  their  share  in  the  infamous  pro- 
ject. Pichegru  and  his  party  embarked  on  board  the  vessel  of  Captain 
Wright,  and  were  landed,  in  the  darkness  of  the  night,  beneath  the  cliff  of 
Biville.  These  illustrious  assassins  climbed  the  smugglers'  rope,  and  skulk 
ing  from  lurking-place  to  lurking-place,  joined  the  desperado,  George  Ca 
doudal,  in  the  suburbs  of  Paris^  Moreau  made  an  appointment  to  meet 
Pichegru  by  night  upon  the  Boulevard  de  la  Madeleine. 

It  was  a  dark  and  cold  night,  in  the  month  of  January,  1804,  when  these 
two  illustrious  generals,  the  conqueror  of  Holland  and  the  hero  of  Hohen- 
linden,  approached,  and,  by  a  preconcerted  signal,  recognized  each  other. 
Years  had  elapsed  since  they  had  stood  side  by  side  as  soldiers  in  the  army 
of  the  Rhine.  Both  were  embarrassed,  for  neither  of  these  once  honorable 
men  were  accustomed  to  deeds  of  darkness.  They  had  hardly  exchanged 
salutations,  when  George  Cadoudal  appeared,  he  having  planned  the  meet- 
ing, and  being  determined  to  know  its  result.  Moreau,  disgusted  with  the 
idea  of  having  any  association  with  such  a  man,  was  angry  in  being  subject- 
ed to  such  an  interview,  and,  appointing  another  meeting  with  Pichegru  at 
his  own  house,  abruptly  retired.  They  soon  met,  and  had  a  long  and  serious 
conference. 

Moreau  was  perfectly  willing  to  conspire  for  the  overthrow  of  the  consu- 
lar government,  but  insisted  that  the  supreme  power  should  be  placed  in  his 
own  hands,  and  not  in  the  hands  of  the  Bourbons.  Pichegru  was  grievously 
disappointed  at  the  result  of  this  interview.  He  remarked  to  the  confidant 
who  conducted  him  to  Moreau's  house,  and  thence  back  to  his  retreat, 

"  And  this  man,  too,  has  ambition,  and  wishes  to  take  his  turn  in  govern^ 
ing  France.  Poor  creature  !  he  could  not  govern  her  for  four-and -twenty 
hours." 


1804.]  THE  BOURBON  CONSPIRACY.  433 

When  Cadoudal  was  informed  of  the  result  of  the  interview,  he  impetu- 
ously exclaimed,  "  If  we  must  needs  have  any  usurper,  I  should  infinitely 
prefer  Napoleon  to  this  brainless  and  heartless  Moreau  !"  The  conspirators 
were  now  almost  in  a  state  of  despair.  They  found,  to  their  surprise,  in  en- 
tire contradiction  to  the  views  which  had  been  so  confidently  proclaimed  in 
England,  that  Napoleon  was  admired  pnd  beloved  by  nearly  all  the  French 
nation,  and  that  it  was  impossible  to  organize  even  a  respectable  party  in  op- 
position to  him. 

Various  circumstances  now  led  the  First  Consul  to  suspect  that  some  se- 
rious plot  was  in  progress.  The  three  English  ministers  at  Hesse,  Wirtem- 
berg,  and  Bavaria,  were  found  actively  employed  in  endeavoring  to  foment 
intrigues  in  France.  The  minister  at  Bavaria,  Mr.  Drake,  had,  as  he  sup- 
posed, bribed  a  Frenchman  to  act  as  his  spy.  This  Frenchman  carried  all 
Drake's  letters  to  Napoleon,  and  received  from  the  First  Consul  drafts  of 
the  answers  to  be  returned.  In  this  curious  correspondence,  Drake  remarks 
in  one  of  his  letters, 

"All  plots  against  the  First  Consul  must  be  forwarded;  for  it  is  a  matter 
of  right  little  consequence  by  whom  the  animal  be  stricken  down,  provided  you 
are  all  in  the  hunt."'' 

Napoleon  caused  these  letters  to  be  deposited  in  the  Senate,  and  to  be  ex- 
hibited to  the  diplomatists  of  all  nations,  who  chose  to  see  them.  Some 
spies  had  also  been  arrested  by  the  police,  and  condemned  to  be  shot.  One, 
on  his  way  to  execution,  declared  that  he  had  important  information  to  give. 
He  was  one  of  the  band  of  George  Cadoudal,  and  confessed  the  whole  plot. 
Other  conspirators  were  soon  arrested.  Among  them,  M.  Lozier,  a  man  of 
education  and  polished  manners,  declared  that  Moreau  had  sent  to  the  Roy- 
alist conspirators  in  London  one  of  his  officers,  offering  to  head  a  movement 
in  behalf  of  the  Bourbons,  and  to  influence  the  army  to  co-operate  in  that 
movement.  When  the  conspirators,  relying  upon  this  promise,  had  reached 
Paris,  he  continued,  Moreau  took  a  different  turn,  and  demanded  that  he  him- 
self should  be  made  the  successor  of  the  First  Consul. 

When  the  first  intimation  of  Moreau's  guilt  was  communicated  to  Napo- 
leon, it  was  with  difficulty  that  he  could  credit  it.  The  First  Consul  imme- 
diately convened  a  secret  council  of  his  ministers.  They  met  in  the  Tuil- 
eries  at  night.  Moreau  was  a  formidable  opponent  even  for  Napoleon  to  at- 
tack. He  was  enthusiastically  admired  by  the  army,  and  his  numerous  and 
powerful  friends  would  aver  that  he  was  the  victim  of  the  jealousy  of  the 
First  Consul.  It  was  suggested  by  some  of  the  council  that  it  would  be 
good  policy  not  to  touch  Moreau.  Napoleon  remarked, 

"  They  will  say  that  I  am  afraid  of  Moreau.  That  shall  not  be  said.  I 
have  been  one  of  the  most  merciful  of  men  ;  but,  if  necessary,  I  will  be  one 
of  the  most  terrible.  I  will  strike  Moreau  as  I  would  strike  any  one  else,  as 
he  has  entered  into  a  conspiracy,  odious  alike  for  its  objects  and  for  the  con- 
nections which  it  presumes." 

It  was  decided  that  Moreau  should  be  immediately  arrested.  Camba- 
ceres,  a  profound  lawyer,  declared  that  the  ordinary  tribunals  were  not  suffi- 
cient to  meet  this  case,  and  urged  that  Moreau  should  be  tried  by  a  court- 
martial  composed  of  the  most  eminent  military  officers,  a  course  which 


424  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.  [CHAP.  XXVII. 

would  have  been  in  entire  accordance  with  existing  laws.  Napoleon  op- 
posed the  proposition. 

"  It  would  be  said,"  he  remarked,  "  that  I  had  punished  Moreau,  by  caus- 
ing him,  under  the  form  of  law,  to  be  condemned  by  my  own  partisans." 

Early  in  the  morning  Moreau  was  arrested  and  conducted  to  the  Temple. 
Excitement  spread  rapidly  through  Paris.  The  friends  of  Moreau  declared 
that  there  was  no  conspiracy ;  that  neither  George  Cadoudal  nor  Pichegru 
were  in  France ;  that  the  whole  story  was  an  entire  fabrication,  to  enable  the 
First  Consul  to  get  rid  of  a  dangerous  rival.  Napoleon  was  extremely  sen- 
sitive respecting  his  reputation.  It  was  the  great  object  of  his  ambition  to 
enthrone  himself  in  the  hearts  of  the  French  people  as  a  great  benefactor. 
He  was  deeply  wounded  by  these  cruel  taunts. 

"  It  is  indeed  hard,"  said  he,  "  to  be  exposed  to  plots  the  most  atrocious, 
and  then  to  be  accused  of  being  the  inventor  of  those  plots ;  to  be  charged 
with  jealousy,  when  the  vilest  jealousy  pursues  me ;  to  be  accused  of  at- 
tempts upon  the  life  of  another,  when  the  most  desperate  attacks  are  aimed 
at  my  own." 

All  the  enthusiasm  of  his  impetuous  nature  was  now  aroused  to  drag  the 
whole  plot  to  light  in  defense  of  his  honor.  He  was  extremely  indignant 
against  the  Royalists.  He  had  not  overturned  the  throne  of  the  Bourbons. 
He  had  found  it  overturned,  France  in  anarchy,  and  the  Royalists  in  exile 
and  beggary.  He  had  been  the  generous  benefactor  of  these  Royalists,  and 
had  done  every  thing  in  his  power  to  render  them  service.  In  defiance  of 
deeply-rooted  popular  prejudices,  and  in  opposition  to  the  remonstrances  of 
his  friends,  he  had  recalled  the  exiled  emigrants,  restored  to  them  as  far  as 
possible  their  confiscated  estates,  conferred  upon  them  important  trusts,  and 
had  even  lavished  upon  them  so  many  favors  as  to  have  drawn  upon  him- 
self the  accusation  of  meditating  the  restoration  of  the  Bourbons.  In  return 
for  such  services,  they  were  endeavoring  to  blow  him  up  with  infernal  ma- 
chines, and  to  butcher  him  on  the  highway. 

As  for  Moreau,  he  regarded  him  simply  with  pity,  and  wished  only  to 
place  upon  his  head  the  burden  of  a  pardon.  The  most  energetic  measures 
were  now  adopted  to  search  out  the  conspirators  in  their  lurking-places. 
Every  day  new  arrests  were  made.  Two  of  the  conspirators  made  full  con- 
fessions. They  declared  that  the  highest  nobles  of  the  Bourbon  court  were 
involved  in  the  plot,  and  that  a  distinguished  Bourbon  prince  was  near  at 
hand,  ready  to  place  himself  at  the  head  of  the  Royalists  as  soon  as  Napo- 
leon should  be  slain. 

The  First  Consul,  exasperated  to  the  highest  degree,  exclaimed,  "  These 
Bourbons  fancy  that  they  may  shed  my  blood  like  that  of  some  wild  animal, 
and  yet  my  blood  is  quite  as  precious  as  theirs.  I  will  repay  them  the  alarm 
with  which  they  seek  to  inspire  me.  I  pardon  Moreau  the  weakness  and 
the  errors  to  which  he  is  urged  by  a  stupid  jealousy,  but  I  will  pitilessly 
shoot  the  very  first  of  these  princes  who  shall  fall  into  my  hands.  I  will 
teach  them  with  what  sort  of  a  man  they  have  to  deal." 

Fresh  arrests  were  still  daily  made,  and  the  confessions  of  the  prisoners 
all  established  the  point  that  there  was  a  young  prince  who  occasionally  ap- 
peared in  their  councils,  who  was  treated  with  the  greatest  consideration,  and 


1604.] 


THE  BOURBON  CONSPIRACY. 


425 


who  was  to  head  the  movement.  Still  Cadoudal,  Pichegru,  and  other  prom- 
inent leaders  of  the  conspiracy  eluded  detection.  As  there  was  ample  evi- 
dence that  these  men  were  in  Paris,  a  law  was  passed  in  the  Legislative  As- 
sembly, without  opposition,  that  any  person  who  should  shelter  them  should 
be  punished  by  death,  and  that  whosoever  should  be  aware  of  their  hiding- 
place,  and  yet  fail  to  expose  them,  should  be  punished  with  six  years'  im- 
prisonment. 

A  strict  guard  was  also  placed  for  several  days  at  the  gates  of  Paris,  al- 
lowing no  one  to  leave,  and  with  orders  to  shoot  any  person  who  should  at- 
tempt to  scale  the  wall.  Pichegru,  Cadoudal,  and  the  other  prominent  con- 
spirators were  now  in  a  state  of  terrible  perplexity.  They  wandered  by  night 
from  house  to  house,  often  paying  one  or  two  thousand  dollars  for  the  shelter 
of  a  few  hours.  One  evening,  Pichegru,  in  a  state  of  despair,  seized  a  pistol, 
and  was  about  to  shoot  himself  through  the  head,  when  he  was  prevented  by 
a  friend.  On  another  occasion,  with  the  boldness  of  desperation,  he  went  to 
the  house  of  M.  Marbois,  one  of  the  ministers  of  Napoleon,  and  implored 
shelter.  Marbois  knew  the  noble  character  of  the  master  whom  he  served. 
With  grief,  but  without  hesitancy,  he  allowed  his  old  companion  the  tempo- 
rary shelter  of  his  roof,  and  did  not  betray  him.  He  subsequently  informed 
the  First  Consul  of  what  he  had  done.  Napoleon,  with  characteristic  mag- 
nanimity, replied  to  this  avowal  in  a  letter  expressive  of  his  high  admiration 
of  his  generosity  in  affording  shelter  under  such  circumstances  to  one  who, 
though  an  outlaw,  had  been  his  friend. 

At  length  Pichegru  was  betrayed.  He  was  asleep  at  night.  His  SWOR/ 
and  loaded  pistols  were  by  his  side,  ready  for  desperate  defense.  The  gen- 
darmes  cautiously  entered  his  room  and  sprang  upon  his  bed.  He  was  ? 
powerful  man,  and  he  struggled  with  herculean  but  unavailing  efforts.  He 
was,  however,  speedily  overpowered,  bound,  and  conducted  to  the  Temple. 
Soon  after,  George  Cadoudal  was  arrested.  He  was  in  a  cabriolet.  A  po- 


AKREST    OF    CADOUDAL. 


426  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.  [CHAP.  XXVll. 

lice  officer  seized  the  bridle  of  the  horse.  Cadoudal  drew  a  pistol  and  shot 
him  dead  upon  the  spot.  He  then  leaped  from  the  cabriolet,  and  severely 
wounded  another  officer  who  attempted  to  seize  him.  He  made  the  utmost 
efforts  to  escape  on  foot,  under  cover  of  the  darkness  of  the  night,  but,  sur- 
rounded by  the  crowd,  he  was  soon  captured.  This  desperado  appeared  per- 
fectly calm  and  self-possessed  before  his  examiners.  There  were  upon  his 
person  a  dagger,  pistols,  and  twelve  thousand  dollars  in  gold  and  in  bank 
notes.  Boldly  he  avowed  his  object  of  attacking  the  First  Consul,  and 
proudly  declared  that  he  was  acting  in  co-operation  with  the  Bourbon  princes. 

The  certainty  of  the  conspiracy  was  now  established,  and  the  Senate 
transmitted  a  letter  of  congratulation  to  the  First  Consul  upon  his  escape. 
In  his  reply,  Napoleon  remarked,  "  I  have  long  since  renounced  the  hope  of 
enjoying  the  pleasures  of  private  life.  All  my  days  are  occupied  in  fulfilling 
the  duties  which  my  fate  and  the  will  of  the  French  people  have  imposed 
upon  me.  Heaven  will  watch  over  France  and  defeat  the  plots  of  the  wicked. 
The  citizens  may  be  without  alarm ;  my  life  will  last  as  long  as  it  will  be 
useful  to  the  nation.  But  I  wish  the  French  people  to  understand,  that  ex- 
istence without  their  confidence  and  affection  would  afford  me  no  consola- 
tion, and  would,  as  regards  them,  have  no  beneficial  objects." 

Napoleon  sincerely  pitied  Moreau  and  Pichegru,  and  wished  to  save  them 
from  the  ignominious  death  they  merited.  He  sent  a  messenger  to  Moreau, 
assuring  him  that  a  frank  confession  should  secure  his  pardon  and  restora- 
tion to  favor.  But  it  was  far  more  easy  for  Napoleon  to  forgive  than  for  the 
proud  Moreau  to  accept  his  forgiveness.  With  profound  sympathy,  Napo- 
leon contemplated  the  position  of  Pichegru.  As  he  thought  of  this  illustrious 
general,  condemned  and  executed  like  a  felon,  he  exclaimed  to  M.  Real, 

"What  an  end  for  the  conqueror  of  Holland  !  But  the  men  of  the  Revo- 
lution must  not  thus  destroy  each  other.  I  have  long  thought  of  forming  a 
colony  at  Cayenne.  Pichegru  was  exiled  thither,  and  knows  the  place  well ; 
and  of  all  our  generals,  he  is  best  calculated  to  form  an  establishment  there. 
Go  and  visit  him  in  his  prison,  and  tell  him  that  I  pardon  him  ;  that  it  is  not 
toward  him  or  Moreau,  or  men  like  them,  that  I  am  inclined  to  be  severe. 
Ask  him  how  many  men,  and  what  amount  of  money  he  would  require  for 
founding  a  colony  in  Cayenne,  and  I  will  supply  him,  that  he  may  go  thith- 
er and  re-establish  his  reputation  in  rendering  a  great  service  to  France." 
Pichegru  was  so  much  affected  by  this  magnanimity  of  the  man  whose  death 
he  had  been  plotting,  that  he  bowed  his  head  and  wept  convulsively.  The 
illustrious  man  was  conquered. 

But  Napoleon  was  much  annoyed  in  not  being  able  to  lay  hold  upon  one 
of  those  Bourbon  princes  who  had  so  long  been  conspiring  against  his  Ijfe, 
and  inciting  others  to  perils  from  which  they  themselves  escaped.  One 
morning,  in  his  study,  he  inquired  of  Talleyrand  and  Fouche  respecting  the 
place  of  residence  of  the  various  members  of  the  Bourbon  family.  He  was 
told,  in  reply,  that  Louis  XVIII.  and  the  Duke  d'Angouleme  lived  in  War- 
saw ;  the  Count  d'Artois  and  the  Duke  de  Berri  in  London,  where  also  were 
the  Princes  of  Conde,  with  the  exception  of  the  Duke  d'Enghien,  the  most 
enterprising  of  them  all,  who  lived  at  Ettenheim,  near  Strasburg.  It  was  in 
this  vicinity  that  the  British  ministers  Taylor,  Smith,  and  Drake  had  been 


1804.]  THE  BOURBON  CONSPIRACY.  427 

busying  themselves  in  fomenting  intrigues.  The  idea  instantly  flashed  into 
the  mind  of  the  First  Consul  that  the  Duke  d'Enghien  was  thus  lurking  near 
the  frontier  of  France  to  take  part  in  the  conspiracy.  He  immediately  sent 
an  officer  to  Ettenheim  to  make  inquiries  respecting  the  prince.  The  officer 
returned  with  the  report  that  the  Duke  d'Enghien  was  living  there  with  a 
Princess  of  Rohan,  to  whom  he  was  warmly  attached.  He  was  often  absent 
from  Ettenheim,  and  occasionally  went  in  disguise  to  Strasburg.  He  was 
in  the  pay  of  the  British  government,  a  soldier  against  his  own  country,  and 
had  received  orders  from  the  British  cabinet  to  repair  to  the  banks  of  the 
Rhine,  to  be  ready  to  take  advantage  of  any  favorable  opportunity  which 
might  be  presented  to  invade  France.  This  was  an  act  of  high  treason. 

Napoleon  immediately  surmised  that  this  prince  was  the  Duke  d'Enghien. 
His  frequent  absences  from  Ettenheim  were  naturally  associated  with  his  fre- 
quent interviews  with  the  conspirators.  It  also  so  happened  that  there  was 
an  officer  in  the  suite  of  the  prince  who  was  treated  with  much  consideration. 
This  was  the  Marquis  of  Thumery.  The  officer  who  had  been  sent  from 
Paris,  incognito,  to  investigate  the  matter,  misled  by  the  German  pronunci- 
ation of  the  name,  very  honestly  reported  that  General  Dumouriez  was  in  the 
retinue  of  the  duke. 

This  fatal  report  reached  Paris  on  the  10th  of  March.  That  same  morn- 
ing a  deposition  had  been  made  by  one  of  the  accomplices  of  Georges  that 
there  was  a  conspiracy ;  that  a  prince  was  at  its  head ;  that  this  prince,  if 
he  had  not  already  come,  would  soon  arrive.  This  deposition  was  laid  be- 
fore the  First  Consul  at  the  same  time  with  the  report  of  the  officer  of  gen- 
darmerie from  Ettenheim.  The  coincidence  struck  the  mind  of  the  First  Con- 
sul with  great  force.  He  no  longer  entertained  a  doubt  that  this  prince  was 
the  Duke  d'Enghien.  The  supposed  presence  of  General  Dumouriez  in  his 
suite  added  almost  demonstrative  confirmation  to  this  decision.  It  was  cer- 
tain that  the  prince  alluded  to  could  not  have  come  from  London,  since  the 
cliff  at  Biville  had  been  so  narrowly  watched.  The  whole  plot  seemed  now, 
to  Napoleon,  as  clear  as  day.  As  soon  as  the  assassins  had  struck  him  down, 
a  mangled  corpse,  the  Count  d'Artois  was  to  enter  France  through  Norman- 
dy, with  Pichegru ;  the  Duke  d'Enghien  was  to  enter  through  Alsace,  with 
Dumouriez  ;  and  thus  the  Bourbon  princes,  aided  by  foreign  armies,  were 
to  re-establish  the  Bourbon  throne  by  the  assassination  of  the  First  Consul, 
and  on  the  ruins  of  the  Republic.  This  was,  in  fact,  the  design  of  the  con- 
spirators. The  Duke  d'Enghien  was  waiting  for  his  orders  to  march  ;  but  it 
subsequently  appeared  that  he  had  not  taken  any  part  in  the  plan  for  the  as- 
sassination of  Napoleon.  He  was  guilty  of  high  treason,  but  he  was  not  an 
accomplice  with  murderers.  He  was  a  traitor,  but  he  was  not  an  assassin. 
Yet,  treasonable  as  was  his  enterprise,  the  heart  refuses  with  severity  to  con- 
demn. We  almost  sympathize  in  his  attempts  to  regain,  even  by  the  aid  of 
foreign  arms,  the  throne  of  his  exiled  family.  Napoleon  was  no  stranger  to 
the  appeals  of  generosity.  He  felt  for  the  exiled  Bourbons,  and  ever  mani- 
fested a  disposition  to  do  every  thing  in  his  power  to  alleviate  their  bitter  lot. 
Had  he  not  been  fully  convinced  that  the  Duke  d'Enghien  was  plotting  his 
assassination,  he  would  not  have  consented  even  to  his  arrest. 

Very  judiciously  Thiers  remarks,  "  The  First  Consul's  mind,  usually  so 


428  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.  [ClIAF.  XXVII. 

strong  and  clear,  could  not  resist  so  many  appearances  so  well  calculated  to 
mislead.  He  was  convinced.  It  is  necessary  to  have  witnessed  minds  un- 
der the  bias  of  an  inquiry  of  this  sort,  and  more  especially  when  passion,  of 
whatever  kind,  disposes  them  to  belief  in  what  they  suspect,  to  be  able  to 
understand  how  ready  such  minds  are  to  jump  at  conclusions,  and  to  learn 
how  very  precious  are  those  delays  and  forms  of  law  which  save  men  from 
those  conclusions  so  quickly  drawn  from  some  merely  accidental  circum- 
stances."* 

A  council  was  immediately  called  to  decide  what  should  be  done.  The 
ministers  were  divided  in  opinion.  Some  urged  sending  a  secret  force  to  ar- 
rest the  duke,  with  all  his  papers  and  accomplices,  and  bring  them  to  Paris. 
Cambaceres,  apprehensive  of  the  effect  that  such  a  violation  of  the  German 
territory  might  produce  in  Europe,  opposed  the  measure.  Napoleon  replied 
to  him  kindly,  but  firmly,  "  I  know  your  motive  for  speaking  thus — your  de- 
votion to  me.  I  thank  you  for  it.  But  I  will  not  allow  myself  to  be  put  to 
death  without  resistance.  I  will  make  those  people  tremble,  and  teach  them 
to  keep  quiet  for  the  time  to  come." 

Orders  were  immediately  given  for  three  hundred  dragoons  to  repair  to  the 
banks  of  the  Rhine,  cross  the  river,  dash  forward  to  Ettenheim,  surround  the 
town,  arrest  the  prince  and  all  his  retinue,  and  convey  them  to  Strasburg. 
As  soon  as  the  arrest  was  made,  Colonel  Caulaincourt  was  directed  to  hasten 
to  the  Grand  Duke  of  Baden  with  an  apology  from  the  First  Consul  for  vio- 
lating his  territory,  stating  that  the  gathering  of  the  hostile  emigrants  so  near 
the  frontiers  of  France  authorized  the  French  government  to  protect  itself, 
and  that  the  necessity  for  prompt  and  immediate  action  rendered  it  impos- 
sible to  adopt  more  tardy  measures.  The  Duke  of  Baden  expressed  his  sat- 
isfaction with  the  apology. 

On  the  15th  of  March,  1804,  the  detachment  of  dragoons  set  out,  and  pro- 
ceeded with  such  rapidity  as  to  surround  the  town  before  the  duke  could  re- 
ceive any  notice  of  their  approach.  He  was  arrested  in  his  bed,  and  hur- 
ried, but  partially  clothed,  into  a  carriage,  and  conveyed  with  the  utmost 
speed  to  Strasburg.  He  was  from  thence  taken  to  the  Castle  of  Vincennes, 
in  the  vicinity  of  Paris.  A  military  commission  was  formed,  composed  of 
the  colonels  of  the  garrison,  with  General  Hullin  as  President.  The  prince 
was  brought  before  the  commission. 

He  was  calm  and  haughty,  for  he  had  no  apprehension  of  the  fate  which 
awaited  him.  He  was  accused  of  high  treason,  in  having  sought  to  excite 
civil  war,  and  in  bearing  arms  against  France.  To  arraign  him  upon  this 
charge  was  to  condemn  him,  for  of  this  crime  he  was  clearly  guilty.  Though 
he  denied  all  knowledge  of  the  plot  in  question,  boldly  and  rather  defiantly 
he  avowed  that  he  had  borne  arms  against  France,  and  that  he  was  on  the 
banks  of  the  Rhine  for  the  purpose  of  serving  against  her  again. 

"I  esteem,"  said  he,  "  General  Bonaparte  as  a  great  man,  but,  being  my- 
self a  prince  of  the  house  of  Bourbon,  I  have  vowed  against  him  eternal  ha- 
tred. A  Conde,"  he  added,  "can  never  re-enter  France  but  with  arms  in 
his  hands.  My  birth,  my  opinions,  render  me  forever  the  enemy  of  your 
government." 

*  Thiers'1  Consulate  and  Empire,  vol.  i.,  p.  562. 


1804.]  THE  BOURBON  CONSPIRACY.  429 


ARREST    OF    THE    DUKE    D'ENGHIEN. 


By  the  laws  of  the  Republic,  for  a  Frenchman  to  serve  against  France 
was  a  capital  offense.  Napoleon,  however,  would  not  have  enforced  this 
law  in  the  case  of  the  duke,  had  he  not  fully  believed  that  he  was  implicated 
in  the  conspiracy,  and  that  it  was  necessary,  to  secure  himself  from  assassin- 
ation, that  he  should  strike  terror  into  the  hearts  of  the  Bourbons.  The 
prince  implored  permission  to  see  the  First  Consul.  The  court  refused  this 
request,  which,  if  granted,  would  undoubtedly  have  saved  his  life.  Napo- 
leon also  commissioned  M.  Real  to  proceed  to  Vincennes  and  examine  the 
prisoner.  Had  M.  Real  arrived  in  season  to  see  the  duke,  he  would  have 
made  a  report  of  facts  which  would  have  rescued  the  prince  from  his  tragic- 
al fate;  but,  exhausted  by  the  fatigue  of  several  days  and  nights,  he  had 
retired  to  rest,  and  had  given  directions  to  his  servants  to  permit  him  to 
sleep  undisturbed.* 

The  order  of  the  First  Consul  was  consequently  not  placed  in  his  hands 
until  five  o'clock  in  the  morning.  It  was  then  too  late.  The  court  sorrow- 
fully pronounced  sentence  of  death.  By  torchlight  the  unfortunate  prince 
was  led  down  the  winding  staircase  which  led  into  a  fosse  of  the  chateau. 
There  he  saw,  through  the  gray  mist  of  the  morning,  a  file  of  soldiers  drawn 
up  for  his  execution.  Calmly  he  cut  off  a  lock  of  his  hair,  and,  taking  his 
watch  from  his  pocket,  requested  an  officer  to  solicit  Josephine  to  present 

*  "  Put  on  trial  according  to  the  secret  and  summary  method  of  court-martial,  the  prince,  de- 
nying all  part  in  any  plan  of  assassination,  not  only  confessed,  but  rather  vauntingly  acknowledged 
that  he  had  borne  arms  against  the  French  Republic  ;  and  also,  that  he  had  been  several  times  in 
Strasburg.  though  he  denied  that  it  was  for  any  treasonable  purpose.  His  guilt  thus  established, 
and  that  guilt  high  treason,  a  special  law  of  the  Republic  rendering  it  a  capital  offense  for  a  French 
emigrant  to  return  to  France,  and  the  general  law  against  treason,  by  bearing  arms  against  its 
government,  both  violated,  by  the  prisoner's  confession,  the  court-martial  had  no  option  but  to  find 
him  guilty  and  sentence  him  to  death.  According  to  American  ideas  of  treason  and  of  individual- 
ity, such  a  suffering  prince  was  no  martyr." — Charles  J.  In^entoll. 

VOL.  II.— I 


430 


NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE. 


[CHAP.  XXVII. 


those  tokens  of  his  love  to  the  Princess  de  Rohan.  Turning  to  the  soldiers, 
he  said,  "  I  die  for  my  king  and  for  France ;"  and,  giving  the  command  to 
fire,  he  fell,  pierced  by  seven  balls. 


EXECUTION    OF    THE    DUKE    D'ENGHIEN. 


There  are  many  indications  that  Napoleon  subsequently  deplored  the 
tragical  fate  of  the  prince.  It  subsequently  appeared  that  the  mysterious 
stranger,  to  whom  the  prisoners  so  often  alluded,  was  Pichegru.  When  this 
fact  was  communicated  to  Napoleon,  he  was  deeply  moved,  and,  musing  long 
and  painfully,  gave  utterance  to  an  exclamation  of  grief  that  he  had  con- 
sented to  the  seizure  of  the  unhappy  prince. 

He,  however,  took  the  whole  responsibility  of  his  execution  upon  himself. 
In  his  testament  at  St.  Helena,  he  wrote,  "  I  arrested  the  Duke  d'Enghien 


1804.]  THE  BOURBON  CONSPIRACY.  43! 

because  that  measure  was  necessary  to  the  security,  the  interest,  and  the 
honor  of  the  French  people,  when  the  Count  d'Artois  maintained,  on  his  own 
admission,  sixty  assassins.  In  similar  circumstances  I  would  do  the  same." 

The  spirit  is  saddened  in  recording  these  terrible  deeds  of  violence  and  of 
blood.  It  was  a  period  of  anarchy,  of  revolution,  of  conspiracies,  of  war. 
Fleets  were  bombarding  cities,  and  tens  of  thousands  were  falling  in  a  day 
upon  a  single  field  of  battle.  Human  life  was  considered  of  but  little  value. 
Bloody  retaliations  and  reprisals  were  sanctified  by  the  laws  of  contending 
nations.  Surrounded  by  those  influences,  nurtured  from  infancy  in  the  midst 
of  them,  provoked  beyond  endurance  by  the  aristocratic  arrogance  which  re- 
garded the  elected  sovereign  of  France  as  a  usurper  beyond  the  pale  of 
law,  it  is  only  surprising  that  Napoleon  could  have  passed  through  a  career 
so  wonderful,  and  so  full  of  temptations,  with  a  character  so  seldom  sullied 
by  blemishes  of  despotic  injustice. 

This  execution  of  a  prince  of  the  blood  royal  sent  a  thrill  of  indignation 
through  all  the  courts  of  Europe.  The  French  embassadors  were  treated,  in 
many  instances,  with  coldness  amounting  to  insult.  The  Emperor  Alexan- 
der sent  a  remonstrance  to  the  First  Consul.  He  thus  provoked  a  terrible 
reply  from  the  man  who  could  hurl  a  sentence  like  a  bomb-shell.  The 
young  monarch  of  Russia  was  seated  upon  ,the  bloodstained  throne  from 
which  the  daggers  of  assassins  had  removed  his  father.  And  yet  not  one  of 
these  assassins  had  been  punished. 

With  crushing  irony,  Napoleon  remarked,  "  France  has  acted  as  Russia, 
under  similar  circumstances,  would  have  done ;  for  had  she  been  informed 
that  the  assassins  of  Paul  were  assembled  at  a  day's  march  from  her  fron- 
tiers, would  she  not,  at  all  hazards,  have  seized  upon  them  there  ?"  This 
was  not  one  of  these  soft  answers  which  turn  away  wrath :  it  stung  Alexan- 
der to  the  quick. 

Absorbed  by  these  cares,  Napoleon  had  but  little  time  to  think  of  the  im- 
prisoned conspirators  awaiting  their  trial.  Pichegru,  hearing  no  further 
mention  of  the  First  Consul's  proposal,  and  informed  of  the  execution  of  the 
Duke  d'Enghien,  gave  himself  up  for  lost.  His  proud  spirit  could  not  en- 
dure the  thought  of  a  public  trial  and  an  ignominious  punishment.  One 
night,  after  having  read  a  treatise  of  Seneca  upon  suicide,  he  laid  aside  his 
book,  and  by  means  of  his  silk  cravat  and  a  wooden  peg,  which  he  used  as 
a  tourniquet,  he  strangled  himself.  His  keepers  found  him  in  the  morning 
dead  upon  his  bed. 

The  trial  of  the  other  conspirators  soon  came  on.  Moreau,  respecting 
whom  great  interest  was  excited,  as  one  of  the  most  illustrious  of  the  Re- 
publican generals,  was  sentenced  to  two  years  imprisonment.  Napoleon  im- 
mediately pardoned  him,  and  granted  him  permission  to  retire  to  America. 
As  that  unfortunate  general  wished  to  dispose  of  his  estate,  Napoleon  gave 
orders  for  it  to  be  purchased  at  the  highest  price.  He  also  paid  the  expenses 
of  his  journey  to  Barcelona,  preparatory  to  his  embarkation  for  the  New 
World.  George  Cadoudal,  Polignac,  Riviere,  and  several  others,  were  con- 
demned to  death.  There  was  something  in  the  firm  and  determined  energy 
of  George  Cadoudal  which  singularly  interested  the  mind  of  the  First  Con- 
sul. He  wished  to  save  him. 


432  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.  [CHAP.  XXVII. 

"  There  is  one  man,"  said  Napoleon,  "  among  the  conspirators  whom  I  re- 
gret— that  is  George  Cadoudal.  His  mind  is  of  the  right  stamp.  In  my 
hands  he  would  have  done  great  things.  I  appreciate  all  the  firmness  of  his 
character,  and  I  would  have  given  it  a  right  direction.  I  made  Real  say  to 
him,  that  if  he  would  attach  himself  to  me,  I  would  not  only  pardon  him,  but 
give  him  a  regiment.  What  do  I  say  ?  I  would  have  made  him  one  of  my 
aides-de-camp.  Such  a  step  would  have  excited  a  great  clamor,  but  I  should 
not  have  cared  for  it.  Cadoudal  refused  every  thing.  He  is  a  bar  of  iron 
What  can  I  now  do  ?  He  must  undergo  his  fate,  for  such  a  man  is  too  dan. 
gerous  in  a  party.  It  is  a  necessity  of  my  situation." 

The  evening  before  his  execution,  Cadoudal  desired  the  jailer  to  bring  him 
a  bottle  of  excellent  wine.  Upon  tasting  the  contents  of  the  bottle  brought, 
and  finding  it  of  an  inferior  quality,  he  complained,  stating  that  it  was  not 
such  wine  as  he  desired.  The  jailer  brutally  replied,  "  It  is  good  enough  for 
such  a  miscreant  as  you."  Cadoudal,  with  perfect  deliberation  and  compo- 
sure, corked  up  the  bottle,  and,  with  his  herculean  arm,  hurled  it  at  the  head 
of  the  jailer  with  an  aim  so  well  directed  that  he  fell  lifeless  at  his  feet. 
The  next  day,  with  several  of  the  conspirators,  he  was  executed. 

Josephir-e,  who  was  ever  to  Napoleon  a  ministering  angel  of  mercy,  was 
visited  by  the  wife  of  Polignac,  who,  with  tears  of  anguish,  entreated  Jose- 
phine's intercession  in  behalf  of  her  condemned  husband.  Her  tender  heart 
was  deeply  moved  by  a  wife's  delirious  agony,  and  she  hastened  to  plead  for 
the  life  of  the  conspirator.  Napoleon,  endeavoring  to  conceal  the  struggle 
of  his  heart  beneath  a  severe  exterior,  replied, 

"Josephine,  you  still  interest  yourself  for  my  enemies.  They  are  all  of 
them  as  imprudent  as  they  are  guilty.  If  I  do  not  teach  them  a  lesson  they 
will  begin  again,  and  will  be  the  cause  of  new  victims." 

Thus  repulsed,  Josephine,  almost  in  despair,  retired.  But  she  knew  that 
Napoleon  was  soon  to  pass  through  one  of  the  galleries  of  the  chateau. 
Calling  Madame  Polignac,  she  hastened  with  her  to  the  gallery,  and  they 
both  threw  themselves  in  tears  before  Napoleon.  He,  for  a  moment, 
glanced  sternly  at  Josephine,  as  if  to  reproach  her  for  the  trial  to  which  she 
had  exposed  him.  But  his  yielding  heart  could  not  withstand  this  appeal. 
Taking  the  hand  of  Madame  Polignac,  he  said, 

"  I  am  surprised  in  finding-,  in  a  plot  against  my  life,  Armand  Polignac,  the 
companion  of  my  boyhood  at  the  military  school.  I  will,  however,  grant  his 
pardon  to  the  tears  of  his  wife.  I  only  hope  that  this  act  of  weakness  on  my 
part  may  not  encourage  fresh  acts  of  imprudence.  Those  princes,  madame, 
are  most  deeply  culpable  who  thus  compromise  the  lives  of  their  faithful  ser- 
vants without  partaking  their  perils." 

General  Lajolais  had  been  condemned  to  death.  He  had  an  only  daugh- 
ter, fourteen  years  of  a^e,  who  was  remarkably  beautiful.  The  poor  child 
was  in  a  state  of  fearful  agony  in  view  of  the  fate  of  her  father.  One  morn- 
ing, without  communicating  her  intentions  to  any  one,  she  set  out  alone  and 
on  foot  for  St.  Cloud.  Presenting  herself  before  the  gate  of  the  palace,  by 
her  youth,  her  beauty,  her  tears,  and  her  woe,  she  persuaded  the  keeper,  a 
kind-hearted  man,  to  introduce  her  to  the  apartment  of  Josephine  and  Hor- 
tense.  Napoleon  had  said  to  Josephine  that  she  must  not  any  more  expose 


1804.] 


THE  BOURBON  CONSPIRACY. 


433 


Lit 


MADAME    POLIONAC    INTERCEDING    FOB    HER    HUSBAND. 


him  to  the  pain  of  seeing  the  relatives  of  the  condemned ;  that  if  any  peti- 
tions were  to  be  offered,  they  must  be  presented  in  writing.  Josephine  and 
Hortense  were,  however,  so  deeply  moved  by  the  anguish  of  the  distracted 
child,  that  they  contrived  to  introduce  her  to  the  presence  of  Napoleon  as  he 
was  passing  through  one  of  the  apartments  of  the  palace,  accompanied  by 
several  of  his  ministers.  The  fragile  child,  in  a  delirium  of  emotion,  rushed 
before  him,  precipitated  herself  at  his  feet,  and  exclaimed,  "  Pardon,  sire  ! 
pardon  for  my  father  !" 

Napoleon,  surprised  at  this  sudden  apparition,  exclaimed  in  displeasure, 
"  I  have  said  that  I  wish  for  no  such  scenes.  Who  has  dared  to  introduce 
you  here,  in  disregard  of  my  prohibition  ?  Leave  me,  miss  !"  So  saying,  he 
turned  to  pass  from  her. 

But  the  child  threw  her  arms  around  his  knees,  and  with  her  eyes  suffused 


434  NAPOLEON   BONAPARTE.  [CHAP.  XXVIL 

with  tears,  and  agony  depicted  in  every  feature  of  her  beautiful  upturned 
face,  exclaimed,  "  Pardon  !  pardon  !  pardon  !  it  is  for  my  father  !" 

"  And  who  is  your  father?"  said  Napoleon,  kindly.     "Who  are  you  ?'r 

"  I  am  Miss  Lajolais,"  she  replied,  "  and  my  father  is  doomed  to  die." 
Napoleon  hesitated  for  a  moment,  and  then  exclaimed,  "  Ah,  miss,  but  this  is 
the  second  time  in  which  your  father  has  conspired  against  the  state.  I  can 
do  nothing  for  you  !" 

"  Alas,  sire  !"  the  poor  child  exclaimed,  with  great  simplicity,  "  I  know  it : 
but  the  first  time  papa  was  innocent ;  and  to-day  I  do  not  ask  for  justice — I 
implore  pardon,  pardon  for  him !" 

Napoleon  was  deeply  moved.  His  lip  trembled,  tears  filled  his  eyes,  and, 
taking  the  little  hand  of  the  child  in  both  of  his  own,  he  tenderly  pressed  it, 
and  said, 

^Well,  my  child  !  yes  !     For  your  sake  I  will  forgive  your  father.     This 
is  enough.     Now  rise  and  leave  me." 

At  these  words  the  suppliant  fainted,  and  fell  lifeless  upon  the  floor.  She 
was  conveyed  to  the  apartment  of  Josephine,  where  she  soon  revived,  and, 
though  in  a  state  of  extreme  exhaustion,  proceeded  immediately  to  Paris. 
M.  Lavalette,  then  aid-de-camp  of  Napoleon,  and  his  wife,  accompanied  her 
to  the  prison  of  the  Conciergerie  with  the  joyful  tidings.  When  she  arrived 
in  the  gloomy  cell  where  her  father  was  immured,  she  threw  herself  upon 
his  neck,  and  her  convulsive  sobbings,  for  a  time,  stifled  all  possible  powers 
of  utterance.  Suddenly  her  frame  became  convulsed,  her  eyes  fixed,  and 
she  fell  in  entire  unconsciousness  into  the  arms  of  Madame  Lavalette. 
When  she  revived,  reason  had  fled,  and  the  affectionate  daughter  was  a 
hopeless  maniac  ! 

Napoleon,  in  the  evening,  was  informed  of  this  new  calamity.  He  drop- 
ped his  head  in  silence,  mused  painfully,  brushed  a  tear  from  his  eye,  and 
was  heard  to  murmur,  in  a  low  tone  of  voice,  "Poor  child  !  poor  child!  A 
father  who  has  such  a  daughter  is  still  more  culpable.  I  will  take  care  of 
her  and  of  her  mother." 

Six  others  of  the  conspirators  also  soon  received  a  pardon.  Such  was 
the  termination  of  the  Bourbon  conspiracy  for  the  assassination  of  Napo- 
leon. 

Upon  this  subject  the  "  Encyclopedia  Americana"  remarks,  with  much 
candor : 

"  It  is  known  to  every  impartial  investigator  that  Napoleon  was  far  from 
being  of  a  cruel  disposition  ;  that  he  was  never  deaf  to  prayers  for  mercy,  if 
the  great  interests  of  France  allowed  him  to  listen  to  them.  He  pardoned 
most  of  the  persons  implicated  in  the  conspiracy  of  Georges ;  he  pardoned 
the  prince  of  Hatzfield ;  he  offered  pardon  even  to  Staps,  the  young  assassin 
at  Schonbrun ;  in  short,  proofs  enough  exist  to  show  that  his  disposition  was 
the  opposite  of  cruel.  The  narratives  of  several  persons  concerned  in  the 
duke's  death  tend  also  to  exculpate  the  First  Consul.  Savary,  duke  of 
Rovigo,  informs  us  in  his  Memoires  that  the  Consul  heard,  through  him,  01 
the  execution  of  the  prince  with  amazement,  and  greatly  regretted  it.  The 
Count  Real,  Counselor  of  State,  then  prefect  of  Paris,  and  therefore  charged 
with  the  police  of  that  city,  declares  the  same.  He  has  asserted  in  the 


1804.]  THE  BOURBON  CONSPIRACY.  435 

United  States,  where  he  has  lived  a  long  time,  in  presence  of  Joseph  Bona- 
parte, count  de  Survilliers,  Mr.  Duponceau,  General  Lallemand,  Captain 
Sary,  and  others,  that  Napoleon  did  not  know  of  the  execution  of  the  duke 
until  after  it  had  taken  place,  and  that  he  learned  it  with  amazement  from  Sa- 
vary's  mouth,  and  that  the  Consul  had  intended  to  set  the  prince  at  liberty." 

This  agrees  with  the  following  statement,  which  we  have  from  the  most 
authentic  source.  Joseph,  the  brother  of  the  Consul,  found  him,  after  this 
catastrophe,  much  affected,  and  highly  indignant  at  those  persons  whom  he 
accused  of  having  occasioned  this  catastrophe.  He  regretted  much  that  he 
had  lost  so  fine  an  opportunity  of  doing  an  act  of  mercy.  Even  long  after, 
in  conversation  with  his  brother,  he  frequently  alluded  to  this  sad  event,  and4 
with  his  usual  vivacity,  observed, 

"  It  would  have  been  noble  to  pardon  a  prince  who,  in  plotting  against  me, 
had  done  what  his  position  demanded  of  him.  He  was  young,"  continued 
Napoleon  ;  "  my  favors  would  have  attached  him  to  me  ;  he  would  have  be- 
come better  acquainted  with  the  state  of  France,  and  would  have  ended  by 
entering  my  service.  It  would  have  been  gratifying  to  have  had  the  de- 
scendant of  the  great  Conde  for  aid-de-camp."  This  view  is  corroborated 
by  Napoleon's  own  assertions,  in  Las  Casas'  Memorial,  vol.  vii.,  p.  437.  The 
declarations  of  Napoleon  himself,  in  his  will,  however,  are  at  variance  with 
this  view  of  the  subject.  He  there  says,  "  I  ordered  the  Duke  d'Enghien  to 
be  arrested  and  executed,  because  it  was  necessary  for  the  safety,  the  wel- 
fare, and  the  honor  of  the  French  nation.  Under  the  same  circumstances  I 
should  act  in  the  same  way ;  the  death  of  the  Duke  d'Enghien  is  to  be  im- 
puted to  those  who  plotted  in  London  against  the  life  of  the  First  Consul, 
and  who  intended  to  bring  the  Duke  de  Berri  by  Biville,  and  the  Duke  d'En- 
ghien by  Strasburg,  into  France." 

Savary,  who  was  himself  a  witness  of  the  regrets  of  the  Consul  on  account 
of  the  death  of  the  duke,  gives  the  following  explanation  of  this  inconsist- 
ency :  that  Napoleon  preferred,  even  on  his  death-bed,  to  take  the  charge 
of  the  duke's  death  upon  himself,  rather  than  to  allow  his  power  to  be  doubt- 
ed ;  and  that  he  acted  thus  from  regard  to  the  dignity  of  a  sovereign,  who, 
if  he  enjoys  the  credit  of  the  good  which  is  done  in  his  name,  would  act  un- 
worthily in  throwing  the  blame  of  the  evil  done  in  his  name  upon  others. 
He  says,  "When  the  Emperor  uses  the  words  ' Le  Due  d'Enghien  est  mort, 
parceque  je  Tai  voulu,'  his  meaning  amounts  only  to  this  :  '  When  I  reigned, 
no  one  dared  conceive  the  thought  of  disposing  of  the  life  or  liberty  of  any 
one.  It  might  have  been  possible  to  impose  upon  me,  but  never  for  a  mo- 
ment to  encroach  upon  my  power.' 

"  It  is  certain  that,  in  the  critical  situation  in  which  he  found  himself,  walk- 
ing upon  volcanoes,  still  active  and  ever  ready  for  eruption,  he  could  not 
have  suffered  it  to  be  believed  that  such  an  act  could  be  committed  without 
his  consent.  A  belief  in  his  power  was  of  the  utmost  importance  to  the 
peace  and  order  of  France.  The  welfare  of  France  required  that  he  should 
take  upon  himself  the  responsibility  of  every  act  done  in  his  name. 

"  Bignon  says  that,  in  a  note  written  by  Napoleon  himself,  not  yet  pub- 
lished, there  is  the  following  passage  respecting  the  Duke  d'Enghien  •  '  If 
guilty,  the  commission  was  right  to  sentence  him  to  death  ;  if  innocent,  they 


436  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.  [CilAP.  XXVII. 

ought  to  have  acquitted  him,  because  no  order  whatever  can  justify  a  judge 
in  violating  his  conscience.'  " 

The  following  statements  from  the  "  American  Quarterly  Review"  of  Sep. 
tember,  1830,  also  throw  much  light  upon  this  very  important  subject :  "We 
have  it  in  our  power,  from  high  authority,  that  of  a  person  not  now  in  this 
country,  to  state,  what  the  Duke  of  Rovigo  was  not  aware  of,  the  reason 
why  the  Duke  d'Enghien  suffered  death  without  the  knowledge  or  sanction 
of  the  First  Consul.  The  prisoner,  in  extremity,  asked  to  see  the  First  Con- 
sul, which  was  not  permitted ;  but  the  judge  advocate,  Dantancourt,  hu- 
manely suggested  to  him  to  write  a  letter,  which  was  done,  and  the  letter 
sent  to  Real.  During  that  eventful  night  the  First  Consul  had  been  called 
up  five  times,  on  the  arrival  of  as  many  messengers,  with  insignificant  dis- 
patches. So  often  disturbed,  he  gave  orders  not  to  be  called  again  unless 
for  a  very  serious  occasion.  M.  Real  sent  the  Duke  d'Enghien's  letter  to 
Malmaison  by  a  private  horseman  of  the  gendarmerie,  who,  uninformed  as 
to  its  contents,  gave  no  intimation  that  it  required  immediate  attention.  It 
was  laid  on  a  table,  where  it  had  remained  unnoticed  till  after  the  First  Con- 
sul had  deliberately  risen,  and  made  his  toilet  as  usual,  without  the  least  no- 
tion of  its  contents.  In  the  mean  while — indeed,  before  he  got  out  of  bed — 
the  ill-starred  writer  of  that  neglected  letter  was  shot.  The  interview  be- 
tween the  First  Consul  and  Real,  which  immediately  followed  that  between 
the  First  Consul  and  Savary,  disclosed  the  deplorable  cause,  as  Savary's 
tidings  had  revealed  the  catastrophe.  Real's  reception  was  that  of  a  man 
who  had  been  guilty  of  unpardonable  negligence.  He  will,  no  doubt,  at 
some  proper  time,  submit  his  account  to  the  world.  But  he  knows  that  the 
Duke  d'Enghien  was  not  sacrificed  to  a  tyrant's  passions,  policy,  or  fears ; 
that  the  general  agitation  and  very  natural  misunderstanding  which  his  fam- 
ily and  friends  had  occasioned  throughout  the  capital  and  the  council,  the 
over-zealous,  perhaps  treacherous  advice  of  some,  the  over-active,  precipitate 
dispatch  of  others,  and  one  of  those  misadventures  which  are  so  common 
in  the  affairs  of  this  world,  are  the  causes  to  which  this  disaster  is  owing. 
Once  done,  however,  nulla  vestigia  retrorsum,  never  to  recant,  or  apologize, 
or  recede  was  one  of  Bonaparte's  imperious  maxims.  He  felt  the  full  force 
of  the  French  proverb,  'that  whoever  excuses,  accuses  himself,'  and  nothing 
would  induce  him  to  disown  a  deed  done  under  his  orders,  though  they  were 
violated  to  his  infinite  injury  and  mortification,  in  almost  every  stage  of  the 
proceeding.  Both  accounts  are  correct ;  at  all  events,  both  exculpate  Napo- 
leon from  the  haste  of  the  process. 

"We  can  give  assurance,  on  authority  which  can  not  mistake  or  be  mis- 
taken (if  wrong,  it  must  be  intentionally  so,  and  we  have  been  deceived  our- 
selves, which  we  can  not  believe),  that  the  idea  of  the  death  of  the  Duke 
d'Enghien  never  crossed  the  First  Consul's  mind  till  he  was  astonished  and 
confounded  by  the  tidings  communicated  to  him  by  Savary  of  his  execu- 
tion. Whatever  the  precipitation  of  some  of  his  ministers  or  the  intrigues 
of  others  may  have  designed  ;  however  his  own  ideas  may  have  been  sur- 
prised, his  measures  hurnea,  and  tiie  it&ult  enchained,  it  is  certain,  unless 
we  are  grossly  misinformed  (and  if  we  are,  it  is  designedly),  that  the  sudden, 
violent,  and  impolitic  death  of  the  victim  of  various  untoward  circumstance? 


1804.]  THE  BOURBON  CONSPIRACY.  437 

was  as  unexpected  and  as  unwelcome  to  him  at  whose  door  it  is  laid  as  an 
unpardonable  crime,  as  to  any  one  living.  The  question  was  not  whether 
he  should  be  put  to  death,  but  whether  he  should  be  put  on  his  trial." 

Joseph  Bonaparte,  immediately  after  the  arrest  of  the  Duke  d'Enghien, 
called  upon  his  brother  Napoleon.  He  thus  records  the  interview.  Joseph, 
alluding  to  some  past  events,  had  said,  "  Who  would  then  have  thought  that 
you  would  be  one  day  called  on  to  pronounce,  as  a  judge,  the  destiny  of  a 
grandson  of  the  Prince  of  Conde  ?  At  these  words,"  continues  Joseph,  "  I 
saw  Napoleon's  countenance  change,  and  a  tear  start,  for  my  brother  Na- 
poleon's nature  was  good  and  kind,  though  he  often  took  as  much  pains  to 
appear  stern  as  others  do  to  appear  gentle.  Leaning  on  my  arm,  'What 
events,'  said  he,  '  and  what  misfortunes  in  that  family  !  But  who  knows 
whether,  out  of  this  arrest,  may  not  spring  good  for  the  family,  for  the  coun- 
try, and  for  me  ?  for  out  of  it  I  will  find  means  to  show  what  I  really  am.  I 
am  strong  enough  not  to  fear  the  Bourbons.  I  am  great  enough,  I  think,  for 
them  not  to  suppose  that  I  will  degrade  myself  to  the  miserable  part  of 
Monk.  They  tell  me  that  the  Duke  d'Enghien  is  even  disposed  to  antici- 
pate my  favorable  sentiments  by  writing  to  me  ;  but  whether  he  does  or  does 
not,  he  shall  find  in  me  none  but  favorable  dispositions ;  a  wish  to  pardon 
him — not  merely  the  wish,  but  the  will.  I,  who  am  here  to  conciliate,  I  like 
to  imagine  to  myself  the  romance  of  reconciliation,  and  I  smile  at  the  possi- 
bility of  extending  a  friendly  hand  to  the  unfortunate  Duke  d'Enghien.  You 
would  like  to  see,  one  day,  a  descendant  of  the  great  Conde  among  your 
brother's  aides-de-camp.  For  my  part,  I  should  be  delighted,  I  assure  you^ 
and  my  heart  is  filled  with  good  and  generous  sentiments  toward  him.'  */* 

Such  then  are  the  established  facts.  The  Duke  d'Enghien  was  guilty  of 
high  treason.  He  was  in  the  pay  of  England,  with  arms  in  his  hands,  fight, 
ing  against  his  own  country.  He  was  lingering  on  the  frontier,  ready  to 
march  with  invading  armies  into  France.  Yet  Napoleon  was  generously 
disposed  to  overlook  this  crime  of  high  treason,  in  reference  to  the  peculiar 
political  misfortunes  of  the  family  of  the  duke.  But  the  Bourbons  had  en- 
tered into  an  atrocious  conspiracy  for  the  assassination  of  the  First  Consul. 
The  evidence  seemed  overwhelming  that  the  duke  was  actively  engaged  in 
this  conspiracy.  Napoleon  resolved  to  bring  him  to  trial,  still  magnanimous- 
ly intending  to  pardon  the  unhappy  man.  He  thought  that  such  an  act  of 
clemency  would  prove  his  kind  feelings  toward  the  rejected  Bourbons,  and 
that  he  had  no  disposition  to  aggravate  their  misfortunes.  .The  duke  was 
arrested,  accused  of  the  crime  of  high  treason,  tried,  found  guilty  beyond  all 
possibility  of  doubt,  condemned,  and,  by  an  untoward  accident,  executed  be- 
fore Napoleon  had  an  opportunity  to  interpose  the  contemplated  pardon. 
The  duke  fell  before  the  majesty  of  a  just  law.  Napoleon  regretted  his 
death  ;  he  regretted  it  doubly  when  he  learned  that,  though  the  duke,  by  his 
own  defiant  confession,  was  guilty  of  high  treason,  still,  that  he  probably  was 
not  involved  with  the  conspirators  in  plotting  assassination.  But  he  proudly 
refused  to  make  any  apology  to  the  Bourbon  clamor.  He  would  not  at- 
tempt to  mitigate  unjust  obloquy  by  criminating  the  officers  of  the  law. 
With  that  spirit  of  self-respect  to  which  none  can  refuse  their  homage,  he 
assumed  the  whole  responsibility  of  the  act, 


438  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.  [CHAP.  XXVII. 

Upon  the  basis  of  such  facts,  Lamartine,  echoing  the  sentiments  of  aris- 
tocratic Europe,  exclaims,  "  The  First  Consul  had  said,  '  Tis  well  /'  But 
conscience,  equity,  and  humanity  protest  alike  against  this  satisfaction  of  a 
murderer  who  applauds  himself.  He  claimed  the  crime  to  himself  alone  in 
his  revelations  at  St.  Helena.  Let  him,  then,  keep  it  all  to  himself!  He  has 
mowed  down  millions  of  men  by  the  hands  of  war,  and  mad  humanity,  par- 
tial against  itself  for  what  it  calls  glory,  has  pardoned  him.  He  has  slain 
one  alone  cruelly,  like  a  coward,  in  the  dark,  by  the  consciences  of  prevari- 
cating judges,  and  by  the  balls  of  mercenary  executioners,  without  risking 
his  own  breast — not  as  a  warrior,  but  even  as  a  murderer.  Neither  mankind 
nor  history  will  ever  pardon  him  this  spilling  of  blood.  A  tomb  has  been 
raised  to  him  under  the  dome  built  by  Louis  XIV.  at  the  Palace  of  the  Inva- 
lides,  where  the  statues  of  twelve  victories,  hewn  out  of  one  single  block  of 
granite,  harmonizing  with  the  massy  pillars  which  support  the  lofty  edifice, 
seem  to  stand,  the  sentinels  of  ages,  around  the  urn  of  porphyry  which  con- 
tains his  bones.  But  there  is  in  the  shade,  and  seated  on  his  sepulchre,  an 
invisible  statue  which  tarnishes  and  blights  all  the  others — the  statue  of  a 
young  man,  torn  by  hired  nocturnal  assassins  from  the  arms  of  her  he  loved, 
from  the  inviolable  asylum  in  which  he  confided,  and  slaughtered,  by  the 
light  of  a  lantern,  at  the  foot  of  the  palace  of  his  sires.  People  go  to  visit, 
with  a  cold  curiosity,  the  battle-fields  of  Marengo,  of  Austerlitz,  of  Wagram, 
of  Leipsic,  of  Waterloo  ;  they  walk  over  them  with  dry  eyes  ;  then  they  are 
shown,  at  the  angle  of  a  wall  round  the  foundations  of  Vincennes,  at  the 
bottom  of  a  trench,  a  place  covered  with  nettles  and  marsh-mallows,  and  they 
exclaim,  '  It  is  there  !'  With  a  cry  of  indignation,  they  carry  from  the  spot 
an  eternal  pity  for  the  victim,  and  an  implacable  resentment  against  the  as- 


sassin 


"  This  resentment  is  a  vengeance  for  the  past,  but  it  is  also  a  lesson  for 
the  future.  Let  the  ambitious,  whether  soldiers,  tribunes,  or  kings,  reflect, 
that  if  there  are  mercenary  soldiers  to  serve  them,  and  flatterers  to  excuse 
them  while  they  reign,  there  is  the  conscience  of  humanity  afterward  to 
judge  them,  and  pity  to  detest  them.  The  murderer  has  but  his  hour,  the 
victim  has  all  eternity  !"* 

This  legal  execution  of  one  convicted  of  high  treason  the  Allies  have  au- 
daciously stigmatized  as  murder  and  assassination.  Had  European  aristocra- 
cy crushed  Republicanism  in  America  as  in  France,  Washington  would  also 
have  been  called  the  murderer  and  assassin  of  Andre.  He  was  so  called, 
till  the  success  of  this  great  republic  overwhelmed  the  ridiculous  accusation 

*  "  When  Peltier  was  acquitted,  in  defiance  of  Consul  Bonaparte's  efforts  to  convict  him,  of  li- 
bels promoting  his  assassination,  I  was  in  London,  where  the  French  Bourbon  princes  and  their 
abettors,  almost  without  concealment, '  by  divine  right,'  urged  that  atrocity.  At  the  same  time,  I  was 
hard  by  there  when  Colonel  Despard  and  several  others,  convicted  of  treason,  were  executed,  ac- 
cording to  the  terrific  English  method  of  that  punishment.  The  proof  of  Despard's  treason  was 
slight,  that  of  Enghien's  unquestionable.  Not  a  sigh,  scarce  a  sympathy,  followed  Colonel  Des- 
pard's mangled  corpse  to  the  grave,  while  myriads  of  bosoms  soon  swelled  with  indignation  at  the 
death  of  the  Duke  d'Enghien." — History  of  the  Second  War  in  the  United  States,  by  Charles  J.  In- 
gersoll. 

Treason  against  the  Emperor  Napoleon  was  considered  a  virtue  which  merited  reward ;  treason 
against  King  George  III.  was  a  crime  which  merited  death  by  torture. 


1804.]  THE  IMPERIAL  THRONE.  439 

with  contempt.  Our  sympathies  cluster  around  D'Enghien  and  Andre',  yet 
they  both  were  guilty  and  merited  their  doom.  Washington  would  gladly 
have  pardoned  Andre  could  he  have  done  so  without  periling  the  cause  of 
American  freedom,  and  Napoleon  grieved  deeply  that  an  untoward  acci- 
dent  deprived  him  of  the  opportunity  of  extending  a  pardon  to  the  Duke 
d'Enghien. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

THE      IMPERIAL     THRONE. 

Desire  for  the  Empire — Decree  of  the  Senate — Address  of  Cambaceres — Reply  of  Napoleon — Fete 
at  Boulogne — Naval  Battle — Letter  to  the  Pope — His  Reception  at  Paris — Religious  Sanction  of 
the  Marriage  of  Napoleon  and  Josephine — Coronation — The  Empire. 

THE  conspiracy  of  the  French  princes  for  the  assassination  of  Napoleon 
roused  Republican  France  to  increased  efforts  to  consolidate  the  new  gov- 
ernment. The  execution  of  the  Duke  d'Enghien,  a  prince  of  the  blood  roy- 
al, exasperated  the  feudal  monarchs  of  Europe,  and  inspired  them  with  ad- 
ditional hostility  against  the  supremacy  of  the  people.  The  Royalists  con- 
sidered Napoleon,  with  his  almost  superhuman  energy,  as  the  only  obstacle 
to  their  projects.  They  were  ready,  at  every  hazard,  to  strike  him  down. 
The  people  of  France,  profoundly  admiring  the  wisdom  and  efficiency  of  his 
government,  were  grateful  for  the  harmony  which  he  had  restored  to  the  Re- 
public, and  for  the  abounding  prosperity  with  which,  by  his  labors,  it  had 
been  crowned. 

Immediately,  in  the  legislative  bodies,  in  the  streets  of  Paris,  through  all 
the  principal  towns  in  the  departments,  and  in  the  camps  distributed  along 
the  coasts,  all  tongues  were  busy  in  pleading  that  the  crown  should  be  placed 
upon  that  brow  on  whose  safety  reposed  the  destinies  of  France.  It  was  de- 
clared that  experience  had  abundantly  proved  that  republicanism  was  not 
adapted  to  the  genius  of  the  French  people ;  that  the  object  of  the  Revolu- 
tion was  accomplished  in  reforming  abuses,  in  abolishing  the  old  feudal  sys- 
tem, and  in  limiting  the  royal  authority ;  and  that  now  the  dignity  and  the 
safety  of  France  required  that  Napoleon  should  be  invested  with  regal  power, 
that  he  might  thus  be  on  a  level  with  surrounding  monarchs. 

Never  was  the  impulsive  character  of  the  French  people  more  conspicu- 
ous than  on  this  occasion.  Fouche,  in  the  ardor  of  his  zeal,  was  the  first  to 
approach  Napoleon  with  an  expression  of  the  universal  desire.  In  reiterated 
interviews,  he  represented  the  necessity  of  putting  an  end  to  the  anxieties  of 
France  by  returning  to  that  monarchical  form  of  government  which  might 
appease  the  hostility  of  the  surrounding  nations,  which  would  invest  the  per- 
son of  Napoleon  with  new  sacredness,  and  which  would  consolidate  the  work 
of  the  Revolution.  A  blaze  of  enthusiasm  flamed  over  all  France  at  the  idea 
of  investing  the  First  Consul,  the  friend  and  the  idol  of  the  people,  with  im- 
perial dignity.  Addresses  were  now  poured  in  upon  Napoleon  without  num- 
ber, imploring  him  to  accept  the  crown  of  France.  The  First  Consul  sent 
for  Lebrun  and  Cambaceres,  to  confer  with  them  upon  the  subject.  Frank' 


440  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.  [CHAP.  XXVIII. 

ly  he  avowed  that  he  wished  to  ascend  the  throne,  stating  that  it  was  mani- 
fest to  every  one  that  France  desired  a  king ;  that  every  day  she  was  reced- 
ing farther  from  the  wild  excesses  of  the  Revolution ;  that  the  adoption  of 
the  forms  of  monarchy  would  be  an  act  of  conciliation  to  the  rest  of  Europe, 
and  would  enable  him,  with  less  opposition  from  abroad,  to  promote  the 
popular  interests  of  France. 

Napoleon,  with  his  accustomed  prudence,  immediately  sent  to  most  of  the 
governments  of  Europe  to  ascertain  if  the  change  would  be  acceptable  to 
them.  France  was  at  war  with  England,  consequently  the  consent  of  that 
power  was  out  of  the  question.  The  hostile  attitude  which  Russia  had  re- 
cently assumed  rendered  it  a  point  of  dignity  not  to  address  her.  Prussia, 
Austria,  Spain,  and  the  minor  powers  were  consulted.  As  it  was  now  gen- 
erally esteemed  impossible,  throughout  Europe,  that  the  Bourbons  could  be 
restored,  all  the  courts  experienced  much  satisfaction  at  the  idea  of  having 
the  Republic  abolished  in  France.  The  King  of  Prussia  wrote,  with  his 
own  hand,  to  his  minister  in  Paris  in  the  following  cordial  terms  : 

"  I  unhesitatingly  authorize  you  to  seize  the  earliest  possible  opportunity 
to  make  known  to  M.Talleyrand  that,  after  having  seen  the  supreme  power 
conferred  for  life  upon  the  First  Consul,  I  should  see,  with  still  greater  inter- 
est, the  public  order,  established  by  his  wisdom  and  his  great  actions,  con- 
solidated by  the  hereditary  establishment  of  his  family,  and  that  I  should  not 
hesitate  to  acknowledge  it." 

This  letter,  written  but  about  a  fortnight  after  the  execution  of  the  Duke 
d'Enghien,  seems  to  indicate  that,  however  deeply  that  event  might  have 
been  deplored  by  the  courts  of  Europe,  the  exasperating  circumstances 
which  led  to  the  reprisal  were  fully  appreciated.  The  Emperor  Francis  of 
Austria  promptly  assured  Napoleon  of  his  readiness  to  recognize  that  change 
in  the  government  of  France  which  could  not  but  be  acceptable  to  the  sur- 
rounding monarchies.  This  was  the  general  sentiment  throughout  all  of  the 
courts  of  Europe. 

Bourrienne,  in  conversation  with  Napoleon,  one  day  remarked  that  he 
thought  it  would  be  impossible  for  Napoleon  to  get  himself  acknowledged 
Emperor  by  the  old  reigning  families  of  Europe.  "  If  it  comes  to  that,"  he 
replied,  "  I  will  dethrone  them  all,  and  then  I  shall  be  the  oldest  sovereign 
among  them." 

The  Senate  of  France,  by  unanimous  acclamation,  without  a  single  dis- 
sentient voice,  passed  the  decree,  "  That  Napoleon  Bonaparte  should  be 
named  Emperor,  and  in  that  capacity  invested  with  the  government  of  the 
French  Republic."  The  Senate,  in  its  enthusiasm,  resolved  to  go  in  a  body 
to  St.  Cloud,  to  present  the  decree  to  the  First  Consul,  and  to  salute  him  as 
Emperor.  It  was  the  18th  of  May,  1804.  The  fields  were  green,  the  trees 
in  full  foliage,  and  the  bland  atmosphere  of  the  most  lovely  of  spring  morn- 
ings exhilarated  all  spirits.  A  long  procession  of  carriages,  escorted  by  a 
brilliant  guard  of  cavalry,  conveyed  the  senators  to  the  rural  palace  of  St. 
Cloud.  Napoleon,  with  that  perfect  tranquillity  of  spirit  which  seemed  nev- 
er to  forsake  him,  was  ready  to  receive  them.  Josephine  stood  by  his  side, 
flushed  with  agitation,  trembling  in  anticipation  of  the  future,  yet  gratified  at 
the  new  honor  about  to  be  conferred  upon  her  husband.  Cambaceres,  the 


1804.]  THE  IMPERIAL  THRONE.  44  j 

President  of  the  Senate,  bowing  profoundly  before  his  former  colleague,  now 
his  new  sovereign,  thus  addressed  him : 

"  Sire, — Four  years  ago  the  affection  and  the  gratitude  of  the  French  peo- 
ple intrusted  the  reins  of  government  to  your  majesty,  and  the  constitution 
of  the  state  had  already  left  to  you  the  choice  of  a  successor.  The  more  im- 
posing title  which  is  now  decreed  to  you,  therefore,  is  but  a  tribute  that  the 
nation  pays  to  its  own  dignity,  and  to  the  necessity  it  experiences  of  offer- 
ing you  new  proofs  of  its  daily  increasing  respect  and  attachment.  How, 
indeed,  can  the  French  people  reflect,  without  enthusiasm,  upon  the  happi- 
ness it  has  experienced  since  Providence  prompted  it  to  throw  itself  into  your 
arms  ?  Our  armies  were  vanquished,  the  finances  in  disorder,  public  credit 
was  annihilated  ;  the  remnants  of  our  ancient  splendor  were  disputed  by  fac- 
tions ;  the  ideas  of  religion,  and  even  of  morality,  were  obscured.  Your  ma- 
jesty appeared ;  you  recalled  victory  to  our  standards ;  you  restored  order 
and  economy  in  the  public  expenditure.  .The  nation,  encouraged  by  the  use 
you  made  of  them,  took  confidence  in  its  own  resources.  Your  wisdom 
calmed  down  the  fury  of  parties  ;  religion  saw  her  altars  raised  again.  Fi- 
nally— and  that  is,  doubtless,  the  greatest  of  the  miracles  worked  by  your 
genius — that  people,  whom  civil  ferments  had  rendered  indocile  to  all  re- 
straints, and  inimical  to  all  authority,  have  been,  by  you,  taught  to  cherish 
and  respect  a  power  exercised  only  for  its  repose  and  glory." 

The  moment  these  words  were  concluded,  the  cry  of  "  Vive  1'Empereur" 
resounded,  in  tones  of  deepest  enthusiasm,  throughout  the  palace.  The 
multitude,  drawn  by  the  occasion  to  the  court-yard  and  the  gardens,  caught 
the  cry,  and  repeated  it  with  reiterated  and  joyful  shouts.  As  soon  as  si- 
lence was  restored,  Napoleon  briefly  replied  in  the  following  terms  : 

"  Every  thing  which  can  contribute  to  the  weal  of  the  country  is  essen- 
tially connected  with  my  happiness.  I  accept  the  title,  which  you  believe 
to  be  useful  to  the  glory  of  the  nation.  I  submit  to  the  people  the  sanction 
of  the  law  of  hereditary  succession.  I  hope  that  France  will  never  repent 
the  honors  with  which  she  shall  invest  my  family.  At  all  events,  my  spirit 
will  no  longer  be  with  my  posterity  on  that  day  when  it  shall  cease  to  merit 
the  love  and  confidence  of  the  Grand  Nation." 

Cambaceres  then  addressed  a  few  words  of  congratulation  to  the  Empress 
Josephine,  to  which  she  replied  only  by  her  tears.  Napoleon,  desirous  of 
surrounding  the  newly-established  throne  by  all  those  influences  which  could 
give  it  stability,  resolved  to  have  himself  crowned  by  the  Pope  in  Paris.  It 
will  be  remembered  that  Pope  Pius  VII.  was  the  personal  friend  of  Napo- 
leon. He  felt  grateful  for  the  favors  which  the  First  Consul  had  conferred 
upon  the  Church.  Never  before  had  a  Pope  condescended  to  leave  Rome  to 
place  the  crown  upon  a  monarch's  brow.  Pius  VII.,  however,  promptly 
yielded  to  the  wishes  of  his  illustrious  friend. 

It  was  now  the  month  of  May.  Napoleon  wished,  before  the  coronation, 
to  accomplish  his  projected  attack  upon  England.  The  preparations  were 
finally  so  matured  that  even  Napoleon  became  sanguine  of  success.  He  im- 
mediately visited  all  the  camps  upon  the  coast,  and  inspected  them  with  the 
utmost  care.  He  even  examined  the  flotilla,  boat  by  boat,  to  see  if  every 
order  had  been  strictly  attended  to.  Every  thing  was  in  accordance  with  his 


442 


NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE. 


[CHAP.  XXVIII. 


wishes.  A  magnificent  spectacle  was  arranged,  in  the  presence  of  the  En- 
glish squadron,  for  the  distribution  of  the  crosses  of  the  "  Legion  of  Honor." 
Napoleon  was  seated  upon  a  throne  constructed  on  the  brink  of  the  ocean, 
with  his  magnificent  army  assembled  in  the  form  of  a  semicircular  amphi- 
theatre around  him.  The  shouts  of  a  hundred  thousand  men  filled  the  air. 
The  explosion  of  thousands  of  pieces  of  artillery  of  heaviest  calibre  sent  their 
reverberations  even  to  the  shores  of  England.  The  impressive  scene  filled 


THE    FETE    AT    BOULOGNE 


all  hearts.  In  the  midst  of  the  imposing  spectacle,  a  division  of  the  flotilla 
from  Havre,  approaching  Boulogne,  was  attacked  by  the  English  squadron, 
in  view  of  the  countless  multitude  surrounding  the  Emperor.  Napoleon, 
while  engaged  in  the  solemnities  of  the  occasion,  from  time  to  time  turned 
his  telescope  to  watch  the  progress  of  the  fight.  The  gun-boats  entered  the 
harbor  in  safety,  thus  crowning  the  festivities  of  the  day. 

A  short  time  afterward  Napoleon  had  another  opportunity  of  witnessing  a 
battle  between  the  flotilla  and  the  English  ships.  It  was  the  26th  of  August, 
at  two  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  when  he  was  in  the  roadstead  inspecting  the 
line  of  gun-boats.  The  English  squadron,  consisting  of  twenty  ships,  was 


1804.] 


THE  IMPERIAL  THRONE. 


443 


moored  at  some  distance  from  the  shore.  A  ship,  detaching  herself  from  the 
main  body,  approached  the  French  line  to  reconnoiter  and  to  discharge  some 
broadsides.  A  few  gun-boats  immediately  weighed  anchor  and  bore  down 
upon  the  ship.  Seeing  this,  the  English  sent  a  re-enforcement  of  one  frigate 
and  several  brigs  to  attack  the  gun-boats.  The  Emperor  was  in  his  barge 
with  Admiral  Brueys.  He  ordered  his  barge  to  be  steered  into  the  midst  of 
the  boats  that  were  fighting,  and  to  advance  full  sail  for  the  frigate.  He 
was  aware  that  the  sailors  and  soldiers,  who  admired  his  fearlessness  upon 
the  shore,  sometimes  asked  themselves  if  he  would  be  equally  daring  upon 
the  sea.  He  wished  to  enlighten  them  upon  that  point. 

The  imperial  barge,  brilliantly  decorated  with  banners,  rapidly  approached 
the  frigate.  She,  suspecting  the  precious  freight  it  bore,  reserved  her  fire, 
that  with  one  crushing  broadside  she  might  annihilate  her  audacious  foe. 
The  Minister  of  Marine,  trembling  for  the  fate  of  the  Emperor,  seized  the 
rudder,  and  was  about  to  alter  the  course  of  the  barge.  An  imperative  ges- 
ture from  Napoleon  arrested  the  movement,  and  the  barge  held  on  its  course. 
Napoleon  was  examining  the  frigate  with  his  telescope,  when  suddenly  she 
discharged  her  broadside.  The  tempest  of  iron  was  hurled  around  them, 
lashing  the  water  into  foam,  yet  no  one  was  injured.  The  rest  of  the  gun- 
boats rapidly  came  up,  and  assailed  the  English  with  a  shower  of  balls  and 
grape-shot.  Soon  the  frigate,  seriously  damaged,  was  obliged  to  stand  out 
to  sea.  The  brigs  soon  followed,  seriously  battered,  and  one  so  riddled  that 
she  was  seen  to  sink. 


THE   GUN-BOATS   AND  THE   FRIGATE. 


Napoleon,  delighted  with  the  result  of  the  battle,  wrote  to  Marshal  Soult : 
"  The  little  battle  at  which  I  was  present  has  produced  an  immense  effect  in 
England.  It  has  created  a  real  alarm  there.  The  howitzers  which  are  on 


444  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.  [CHAP.  XXVIII. 

board  the  gun-boats  tell  admirably.  The  private  information  that  I  have  re- 
ceived makes  the  loss  of  the  enemy  sixty  wounded,  and  from  twelve  to  fif- 
teen killed.  The  frigate  was  much  damaged."  The  loss  of  the  French  was 
but  two  killed  and  seven  wounded. 

England  was  now  thoroughly  alarmed.  It  was  evident  to  all  that,  her- 
culean as  was  the  enterprise  of  invading  England,  Napoleon  had  accumu* 
lated  materials  commensurate  with  the  undertaking.  All  France  was  in  a 
state  of  the  highest  enthusiasm.  The  most  magnificent  preparations  were 
being  made  for  the  coronation.  The  rumor  had  spread  abroad  that  the  Pope 
was  coming  to  Paris  to  crown  the  Emperor.  The  devout  population  heard 
the  news  with  wonder  and  admiration.  Opposition,  however,  arose  in  the 
Council  of  State.  Many  arguments  were  urged  against  receiving  the  crown 
from  the  Sovereign  Pontiff,  which  was,  in  reality,  conferred  by  the  will  of  the 
nation  and  the  exploits  of  the  army.  Napoleon  was  as  powerful  in  the  cab- 
inet as  on  the  field  of  battle.  His  arguments  were  as  decisive  as  his  bomb- 
shells. He  terminated  the  discussion  by  this  pointed  question  : 

"  Gentlemen,  you  are  deliberating  at  Paris,  at  the  Tuileries.  Suppose 
that  you  were  in  London,  in  the  British  cabinet — that  you  were  the  minis- 
ters of  the  King  of  England,  and  that  you  were  informed  that  at  this  moment 
the  Pope  crosses  the  Alps  to  crown  the  Emperor  of  the  French.  Would 
you  look  upon  that  as  a  triumph  for  England  or  for  France  ?"  This  settled 
the  question  beyond  reply. 

Napoleon  justly  considered  that  the  benediction  of  the  Pope  would,  in  the 
eyes  of  Catholic  Europe,  be  a  seal  of  his  legitimacy  as  a  sovereign  which 
nothing  else  could  supply.  His  letter  to  the  Pope  was  thus  expressed : 
"  Most  Holy  Father, — The  happy  effect  produced  upon  the  character  and 
the  morality  of  my  people  by  the  re-establishment  of  religion,  induces  me  to 
beg  your  Holiness  to  give  me  a  new  proof  of  your  interest  in  my  destiny, 
and  in  that  of  this  great  nation,  in  one  of  the  most  important  conjunctures 
presented  in  the  annals  of  the  world.  I  beg  you  to  come  and  give,  to  the 
highest  degree,  a  religious  character  to  the  anointing  and  coronation  of  the 
first  Emperor  of  the  French.  That  ceremony  will  acquire  a  new  lustre  by 
being  performed  by  your  Holiness  in  person.  It  will  bring  down  upon  your- 
self and  our  people  the  blessing  of  God,  whose  decrees  rule  the  destiny  of 
empires  and  families.  Your  Holiness  is  aware  of  the  affectionate  sentiments 
I  have  long  borne  toward  you,  and  can  thence  judge  of  the  pleasure  that  this 
occurrence  will  afford  me  of  testifying  them  anew.  We  pray  God  that  He 
may  preserve  you,  most  Holy  Father,  for  many  years  to  rule  and  govern  our 
mother,  the  Holy  Church.  Your  dutiful  son,  NAPOLEON." 

The  Pope  was  not  insensible  to  ridicule.  The  nickname  his  enemies  gave 
him,  of  Chaplain  to  Napoleon,  wounded  him  deeply.  And  though  the  Pope 
for  a  little  time  hesitated,  he  at  length  yielded  himself  entirely  to  the  wishes 
of  the  Emperor. 

Josephine  trembled  in  view7  of  the  height  to  which  her  husband  had  at- 
tained. Rumors  still  filled  the  air  that  state  necessity  required  that  Napo- 
leon should  be  the  founder  of  a  new  dynasty,  that  he  should  transmit  his 
crown  to  his  descendants,  and  that  divorce  was  essential,  that  he  might  be 
blessed  with  an  heir.  She  ardently  desired  tb^t  she  might  be  crowned  with 


1804.]  THE  IMPERIAL  THRONE.  445 

her  husband,  for  it  would  be  a  new  tie  to  bind  Napoleon  to  her,  and  a  new 
guarantee  against  that  divorce  which  ever  haunted  her  with  the  most  fearful 
forebodings.  Napoleon  loved  her  tenderly,  and  yet  was  deeply  impressed 
with  the  apparent  policy  of  entering  into  a  new  nuptial  alliance.  A  scene 
occurred  at  this  time  between  them,  when  Napoleon  was  so  much  overcome 
by  the  fearful  apprehensions,  the  love  and  the  grief  of  his  wife,  that,  in  a  sud- 
den outburst  of  affection,  he  threw  his  arms  around  her,  pressed  her  to  his 
heart,  and  assured  her  that,  whatever  policy  might  require,  he  never  could 
gain  strength  to  separate  from  one  whom  he  loved  so  dearly.  He  declared 
that  she  should  be  crowned  with  him,  and  that  she  should  receive  at  his  side, 
and  from  the  hands  of  the  Pope,  the  divine  consecration. 

It  was  now  the  last  of  November.  Every  thing  was  in  readiness  at  Notre 
Dame.  Pius  VII.  commenced  his  journey  from  Rome  to  Paris.  He  was 
every  where  received  in  France  with  the  highest  marks  of  respect  and  at- 
tention. As  the  pontifical  cortege  arrived  at  the  Palace  of  Fontainebleau, 
Napoleon,  on  horseback,  with  a  magnificent  retinue,  met  the  Pope.  Alight- 
ing, the  Emperor  embraced  the  Holy  Father,  and  the  two  sovereigns  entered 
the  carriage  together,  the  Emperor  courteously  assigning  the  right  side  to 
the  Head  of  the  Church.  At  the  rural  palace  of  Fontainebleau  he  was  re- 
ceived with  a  degree  of  splendor  which  both  delighted  and  amazed  him. 


VOL.  II.— K 


THE   TOPE  AT  THE   Tl'lLEKlES. 


446  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.  [CHAP.  XXVIII. 

The  mild  and  benevolent  countenance  and  the  dignified  manners  of  Pius 
VII.  won  all  hearts.  After  three  days  of  repose,  the  Emperor  and  the  Pope, 
entering  the  same  carriage,  proceeded  to  Paris.  The  Pope  was  lodged  in 
the  Pavilion  of  Flora  in  the  palace  of  the  Tuileries,  which  had  been  sump- 
tuously prepared  for  his  reception.  With  a  delicacy  characteristic  of  Napo- 
leon, the  Pope  found  his  apartments  furnished  in  every  respect  precisely  like 
those  he  had  left  in  the  Vatican.  Thus  the  aged  prelate  truly  found  himself 
at  home. 

The  populace  of  Paris  daily  crowded  beneath  the  windows  of  the  Tuileries 
soliciting  his  appearance.  The  fame  of  his  benignity  had  spread  through  the 
capital.  Pius  VII.  frequently  presented  himself  at  the  balcony  of  the  TuiU 
cries,  always  accompanied  by  Napoleon,  and  was  saluted  with  most  enthu- 
siastic acclamations.  The  vast  throng  threw  themselves  upon  their  knees 
before  him,  and  implored  the  pontifical  benediction.  Strange  inconsistency ! 
But  ten  years  before,  the  populace  of  Paris  had  hunted  the  priests  of  Rome 
through  the  streets,  and  had  shot  them  down  without  mercy. 

It  will  be  remembered  that,  at  the  time  of  the  marriage  of  Napoleon  and 
Josephine,  all  religious  ceremonies  had  been  abolished,  and  they  were  only 
united  by  a  civil  bond.  Napoleon  had  endeavored  to  reform  this  state  of 
things,  and,  upon  the  marriage  of  his  sister  to  Murat,  he  insisted  upon  their 
receiving  the  nuptial  benediction  of  the  Church. 

Josephine  immediately  interceded  with  the  Pope  to  secure  for  herself  the 
blessing  of  a  religious  sanction  upon  her  union.  With  deep  emotion  and 
heartfelt  delight,  on  the  very  night  preceding  the  coronation,  the  marriage 
between  Napoleon  and  Josephine  was  secretly  celebrated  in  the  chapel  of 
the  Tuileries.  Upon  this  occasion  Josephine  was  perfectly  overcome  with 
emotion.  On  the  following  morning,  her  reddened  eyes  still  testified  to  the 
tears  she  had  shed. 

Sunday,  the  2d  of  December,  1804,  was  a  clear,  cold  winter's  day.  All 
Paris  was  in  a  state  of  the  highest  enthusiasm  to  witness  the  coronation  of 
the  Emperor.  The  church  of  Notre  Dame  was  decorated  with  surpassing 
magnificence.  The  most  gorgeous  drapery  of  silken  velvet  ornamented  the 
walls,  descending  from  the  roof  to  the  pavement.  An  immense  throne  was 
erected  for  Napoleon  and  Josephine  at  the  west  end  of  the  church,  raised 
upon  twenty-four  steps.  The  Emperor  left  the  Tuileries  in  a  carriage  com- 
pletely surrounded  with  glass.  His  costume  was  designed  by  the  most  dis- 
tinguished painter  of  the  day.  The  acclamations  of  immense  crowds  fol- 
lowed him,  and  all  were  delighted  to  see  the  idol  of  the  people,  become  the 
Emperor  of  France. 

With  a  golden  laurel  upon  that  noble  brow,  which  attracted  the  attention 
of  every  observer,  Napoleon  entered  the  church,  while  five  hundred  musi- 
cians pealed  forth  a  solemn  chant.  The  Pope  anointed  the  Emperor,  blessed 
the  sword  and  the  sceptre,  and,  as  he  approached  to  take  up  the  crown,  Na- 
poleon  firmly  and  with  dignity  took  it  in  his  own  hand,  and  placed  it  himself 
upon  his  head.  This  characteristic  act  produced  an  indescribable  effect  upon 
the  assembly.  Napoleon  then  took  the  crown  prepared  for  the  Empress, 
and  approaching  Josephine  as  she  knelt  before  him,  with  visible  tenderness 
and  affection  placed  it  upon  her  head.  Josephine  for  a  moment  gazed  ear 


1804.] 


THE  IMPERIAL  THRONE. 


447 


nestly,  with  swimming  eyes,  into  the  face  of  her  illustrious  and  idolized 
husband.  Napoleon,  with  a  recognizing  glance  of  love,  returned  the  gaze. 
Josephine,  entirely  overcome,  bowed  her  head  and  burst  into  tears.  An  en- 
thusiastic shout  of  "  Live  the  Emperor"  burst  from  every  lip,  and  resounded 
through  the  arches  of  Notre  Dame.  The  thunders  of  innumerable  cannon, 
reverberating  through  the  streets  of  Paris,  announced  to  all  the  inhabitants 
of  the  metropolis  that  Napoleon  was  the  consecrated  Emperor  of  France. 


THE    CORONATION. 


The  shades  of  evening  had  fallen  over  the  thronged  city,  and  the  palace 
and  the  garden  of  the  Tuileries  were  blazing  with  illuminations,  when  the 
Emperor  and  the  Empress  returned  to  their  imperial  abode.  Josephine, 
overwhelmed  with  the  intensest  emotions,  which  the  scenes  of  the  day  had 
excited,  retired  to  her  chamber,  and,  falling  upon  her  knees,  implored  the 


448  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.  ^CHAP.  XXVIIt 

guidance  of  the  King  of  kings.  Napoleon,  who  personally  disliked  all  pomp 
and  parade,  and  who  arranged  these  scenes  of  grandeur  only  to  impress  the 
minds  of  the  multitude,  hastened  to  his  room,  and  exclaimed  impatiently  to 
an  attendant  as  he  entered,  "Off!  off  with  these  confounded  trappings!" 
He  threw  the  mantle  into  one  corner  of  the  room,  the  gorgeous  robe  into  an- 
other, and  thus  violently  disencumbering  himself,  declared  that  hours  of  such 
mortal  tediousness  he  had  never  passed  before. 

The  court  of  France  had  for  ages  exhibited  to  the  nation  the  spectacle  of 
the  most  voluptuous  and  unblushing  vice.  Manners  the  most  dissolute  had 
been  rendered  attractive  by  the  grace  in  which  they  had  been  robed.  Na- 
poleon had  resolved  that  his  court  should  present  a  model  of  moral  purity. 
He  resolved  to  give  no  one  an  appointment  among  the  royal  retinue  whose 
character  was  not  above  reproach.  The  Duchess  d'Aiguillon,  during  the  li- 
cense of  those  times,  in  which  all  the  restraints  of  Christian  morality  had 
been  swept  away,  had  availed  herself  of  the  facile  liberty  of  divorce  from  her 
husband,  and  had  formed  other  unions.  Josephine,  in  her  days  of  adversity, 
had  received  favors  from  the  duchess,  and  wished  to  testify  her  grat:tude  by 
receiving  her  at  court.  Napoleon  peremptorily  refused.  Josephine  thus 
wrote  to  her  friend  : 

"  I  am  deeply  afflicted.  My  former  friends,  supposing  that  I  am  able  to 
obtain  the  fulfillment  of  all  my  wishes,  must  suppose  that  I  have  forgotten 
the  past.  Alas  !  it  is  not  so.  The  Emperor,  indignant  at  the  total  disregard 
of  morality,  and  alarmed  at  the  progress  it  might  still  make,  is  resolved  that 
the  example  of  a  life  of  regularity  and  of  religion  shall  be  presented  at  the  pal- 
ace where  he  reigns.  Desirous  of  strengthening  more  and  more  the  Church 
re-established  by  himself,  and  unable  to  change  the  laws  appointed  by  her 
observances,  his  intention  is,  at  least,  to  keep  at  a  distance  from  his  court 
all  who  may  have  availed  themselves  of  an  opportunity  for  a  divorce.  Hence 
the  cause  of  his  refusing  the  favor  I  asked  of  having  you  with  me.  The  re- 
fusal has  occasioned  me  unspeakable  regret,  but  he  is  too  absolute  to  leave 
even  the  hope  of  seeing  him  retract." 

The  season  was  now  so  inclement  that  the  Pope  could  not  immediately  re- 
pass  the  Alps.  Napoleon,  by  his  frankness,  courtesy,  and  kindliness,  gained 
the  most  sincere  affection  of  the  Holy  Pontiff.  The  Pope  became  one  of  the 
most  ardent  admirers  of  that  extraordinary  man,  who  won  the  love  of  all  that 
approached  him. 

One  great  cause  of  the  hostility  of  monarchical  Europe  against  republican 
France  was  the  apprehension  entertained  by  the  allied  monarchs  that  repub- 
lican principles  might  extend  through  their  dominions.  One  potent  consid- 
eration which  influenced  Napoleon  in  changing  the  government  from  a  re- 
public to  an  empire  was  the  hope  that  Europe  would  be  conciliated  by  this 
change.  But,  though  the  form  of  government  was  thus  changed,  its  popular 
spirit  remained  the  same. 

The  old  French  monarchy  was  a  system  of  intolerable  oppression  of  the 
people  and  favoritism  of  the  privileged  classes.  It  sustained  feudal  rights, 
an  arrogant  and  exclusive  nobility,  venality  of  offices,  worthless  and  enor- 
mously endowed  convents,  proprietary  clergy,  and  the  entire  surrender  of 
the  state  treasury  to  the  extravagance  of  an  irresponsible  prince. 


1805.]  THE  THRONE  OF  ITALY.  449 

The  empire  which  Napoleon  established  was  as  different  from  this  as  light 
from  darkness.  He  guarded  carefully  the  liberty  of  individuals  and  the  rights 
of  private  property.  All  persons  were  equally  accessible  to  public  employ- 
ments. The  taxes  were  impartially  assessed.  Entire  freedom  of  conscience 
was  granted.  All  religious  sects,  including  the  Jews,  were  respected  and 
protected.  The  strictest  accountability  was  instituted  in  respect  to  the  pub- 
lic funds.  The  decorations  of  the  Legion  of  Honor  were  extended  to  all 
classes  and  to  all  kinds  of  merit.  The  empire  of  Napoleon  was  not  the  old 
feudal  monarchy  revived.  It  was  an  imperial  republic.  Nearly  all  the 
thinking  men  in  France  thought  that  it  was,  in  the  then  existing  circum- 
stances, the  best  government  which  France  could  then  sustain.  It  was 
adopted  by  the  overwhelming  majority  of  the  nation.  There  are  but  few 
thinking  men  now  who  w-ill  dissent  from  that  opinion.  It  is  unreasonable  to 
assert  that  Napoleon  could  have  made  out  of  France  a  republican  America. 
The  despots  of  Europe  would  not  even  permit  him  to  make  out  of  France  a 
republican  empire.  Had  Napoleon  neglected  to  surround  his  popular  in 
stitutions  with  imperial  energy,  France  would  immediately  have  been  over- 
whelmed by  her  assailants.  Where  can  the  intelligent  man  be  found  who 
doubts  this  fact  ?  How  ungenerous,  then,  is  it  to  condemn  Napoleon  for  pur- 
suing that  only  course  which,  under  the  circumstances  of  the  case,  he  could 
pursue  with  any  chance  of  success  ? 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

THE     THRONE     OF     ITALY. 

Napoleon's  Letter  to  the  King  of  England — Wishes  of  the  Cisalpine  Republic — Journey  of  the 
Emperor  and  Empress  to  Italy — Coronation  at  Milan — Dispatches  Intercepted — Napoleon  and 
the  Peasant — Picture  of  a  Day — Napoleon's  Designs  for  France — Anecdotes — Conversation  with 
Las  Casas. 

NAPOLEON  hoped  that  the  adoption  of  monarchical  forms  might  in  some 
degree  reconcile  Europe  to  France.  Most  of  the  surrounding  monarchies 
had  expressed  their  gratification.  England  still  remained  implacable.  Na- 
poleon, however,  hoped  that  even  England  might,  by  this  measure  of  con- 
ciliation, be  appeased.  His  desire  for  peace  was  so  intense,  that,  notwith- 
standing the  reiterated  repulses  he  had  received  from  that  haughty  power, 
he  condescended  to  make  new  advances  to  stay  the  effusion  of  blood.  With 
his  own  hand  he  again  wrote  to  the  King  of  England.  It  was  one  of  his 
first  acts  after  his  enthronement.  His  letter  was  thus  expressed  : 

"  Sir,  my  Brother, — Called  to  the  throne  by  Providence,  by  the  suffrages 
of  the  Senate,  of  the  people,  and  of  the  army,  my  first  desire  is  peace.  France 
and  England,  abusing  their  prosperity,  may  contend  for  ages.  But  do  their 
respective  governments  fulfill  their  most  sacred  duties  in  causing  so  much 
blood  to  be  vainly  shed,  without  the  hope  of  advantage  or  prospect  of  cessa- 
tion ?  I  do  not  conceive  that  it  can  be  deemed  dishonorable  in  me  to  make 
the  first  advances.  I  believe  it  has  been  sufficiently  proved  to  the  world 
that  I  dread  none  of  the  chances  of  war,  which  indeed  offer  nothing  that 
I  can  fear.  Though  peace  is  the  wish  of  my  heart,  yet  war  has  never  been 


450  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.  [CHAP.  XXIX. 

adverse  to  my  glory.  I  conjure  your  majesty,  then,  not  to  refuse  the  happi- 
ness of  giving  peace  to  the  world.  Delay  not  that  grateful  satisfaction,  that 
it  may  be  a  legacy  for  your  children ;  for  never  have  arisen  more  favorable 
circumstances,  nor  a  more  propitious  moment  for  calming  every  passion  and 
displaying  the  best  feelings  of  humanity  and  reason. 

.,-"  That  moment  once  lost,  what  term  shall  we  set  to  a  struggle  which  all 
my  efforts  have  been  unable  to  terminate  ?  In  the  space  of  ten  years  your 
majesty  has  gained  more  in  wealth  and  territory  than  the  extent  of  Europe 
comprehends.  Your  people  have  attained  the  height  of  prosperity.  What, 
then,  has  your  majesty  to  hope  from  war  ?  The  world  is  sufficiently  extens- 
ive for  our  two  nations,  and  reason  might  assist  us  to  discover  the  means  of 
conciliating  all,  were  both  parties  animated  by  a  spirit  of  reconcilement.  At 
all  events  I  have  discharged  a  sacred  duty,  and  one  dear  to  my  heart.  Your 
majesty  may  rely  upon  the  sincerity  of  the  sentiments  now  expressed,  and 
on  my  desire  to  afford  your  majesty  every  proof  of  that  sincerity." 

This  earnest  appeal  the  British  cabinet  repulsed  by  the  following  cold  re- 
ply :  "His  majesty  of  England,  though  earnestly  desiring  the  restoration  of 
peace  to  his  people,  could  not  reply  to  the  overture  made  to  him  without 
consulting  the  Continental  powrers,  especially  the  Emperor  of  Russia."  This 
was  simply  saying  that  a  new  storm  was  gathering  in  the  north,  and  that  the 
fate  of  France  must  depend  on  another  struggle. 

The  Cisalpine  Republic  had  witnessed  the  change  of  France  from  a  re- 
public to  an  empire  with  much  satisfaction.  They  wished  to  imitate  this 
example.  Italy,  rejoicing  in  ancestral  greatness,  immediately  resolved  that 
Napoleon,  whom  the  Italians  regarded  as  one  of  their  own  countrymen, 
should  also  wear  the  crown  of  Lombardy.  A  deputation  from  the  Cisalpine 
Republic  arrived  in  Paris  to  consult  the  Emperor  upon  the  proposed  altera- 
tion, and  to  tender  to  him  the  crown.  At  a  public  audience,  Napoleon  was 
informed  of  the  unanimous  desire  of  the  Senate  and  of  the  people  of  Italy 
that  the  country  should  become  a  kingdom,  and  that  he  would  ascend  the 
throne.  Napoleon  listened  with  pleasure  to  the  petition  of  the  Republic.  In 
reply  he  said, 

"  The  separation  of  the  crowns  of  France  and  Italy  will  be  necessary  here- 
after, but  highly  dangerous  at  present,  surrounded  as  we  are  by  powerful 
enemies  and  inconstant  friends.  The  people  of  Italy  have  always  been  dear 
to  me.  For  the  love  I  bear  them,  I  consent  to  take  the  additional  burden 
and  responsibility  which  their  confidence  has  led  them  to  impose  on  me,  at 
least  until  the  interests  of  Italy  herself  permit  me  to  place  the  crown  on  a 
younger  head.  My  successor,  animated  by  my  spirit,  and  intent  upon  com- 
pleting the  work  of  regeneration,  already  so  auspiciously  commenced,  shall 
be  one  who  will  be  ever  ready  to  sacrifice  his  personal  interests,  and,  if  nec- 
essary, his  life,  in  behalf  of  the  nation  over  which  he  shall  be  called  by  Prov- 
idence, the  constitution  of  the  country,  and  my  approbation,  to  reign." 

In  reference  to  this  event,  Napoleon,  in  a  free  and  frank  conversation  with 
his  ancient  schoolfellow  Bourrienne,  remarked,  "In  eight  days  I  shall  set 
out  to  assume  the  iron  crown  of  Charlemagne.  That,  however,  is  but  a 
stepping-stone  to  greater  things  which  I  design  for  Italy,  which  must  become 
a  kingdom,  comprising  all  the  transalpine  country  from  Venice  to  the  mari- 


1805.]  THE  THRONE  OF  ITALY.  45 ! 

time  Alps.  The  union  of  Italy  with  France  can  be  but  transient.  For  the 
present  it  is  necessary,  in  order  to  accustom  the  Italians  to  live  under  com- 
mon laws.  The  people  of  Genoa,  Piedmont,  Milan,  Venice,  Tuscany,  Rome, 
and  Naples,  cordially  detest  each  other,  and  none  of  them  could  be  induced 
to  admit  their  inferiority.  Rome,  however,  by  her  situation  and  historical 
associations,  is  the  natural  capital  of  Italy.  To  make  it  so  in  reality,  the 
power  of  the  Pope  must  be  restricted  to  spiritual  affairs.  It  would  be  im- 
politic to  attempt  the  accomplishment  of  this  just  now ;  but,  if  circum- 
stances are  favorable,  there  may  be  less  difficulty  hereafter.  As  yet,  I  have 
but  crude  ideas  upon  the  subject,  which  time  and  events  will  ripen. 

"When  you  and  I  were  two  idle  young  men,  sauntering  through  the  streets 
of  Paris,  a  prescient  feeling  told  me  that  I  should  one  day  be  master  of 
France.  My  conduct  hence  received  a  direction.  It  is  wise,  therefore,  to 
provide  for  what  may  come,  and  this  is  what  I  am  doing.  Since  it  would 
be  impossible  at  once  to  unite  Italy  into  a  single  power,  yielding  obedience 
to  uniform  laws,  I  shall  commence  by  making  her  French.  All  the  petty, 
worthless  states  into  which  she  is  divided  will  thus  acquire  a  habit  of  living 
under  the  dominion  of  the  same  laws,  and,  when  this  habit  is  formed,  and  lo- 
cal feuds  and  enmities  become  extinct,  there  will  again  be  an  Italy  worthy 
her  olden  renown,  and  her  restoration  to  independence  will  have  been  my 
work.  Twenty  years  are  requisite,  however,  to  accomplish  this,  and  who 
can  calculate  with  certainty  upon  the  future  ?  I  speak  at  this  moment  of 
things  which  have  long  been  shut  up  in  my  mind.  I  am  probably  but  utter- 
ing a  pleasant  day-dream." 

The  Emperor  and  Empress,  accompanied  by  the  Pope,  soon  left  Paris  for 
Italy.  They  halted  at  Brienne,  the  scene  of  Napoleon's  school-days.  With 
many  delightful  and  melancholy  emotions,  Napoleon  recalled,  with  a  zest 
and  a  rapidity  which  surprised  himself,  innumerable  long-forgotten  trains  of 
ideas  and  sensations.  They  crossed  the  Alps.  Josephine,  supported  by  the 
arm  of  Napoleon,  and  gazing  upon  the  wild  sublimities  which  surrounded 
them,  with  emotions  of  delight  listened  to  the  glowing  recitals  of  her  hus- 
band, as  he  pointed  out  to  her  the  scenes  of  past  enterprise  and  achievement. 

Having  taken  leave  of  the  Holy  Father  at  Turin  with  mutual  testimoni- 
als of  affection  and  esteem,  the  Emperor,  with  his  staff,  visited  the  plain  of 
Marengo.  He  had  assembled  upon  that  plain  thirty  thousand  troops  for  a 
grand  review,  and  that  Josephine  might  behold,  in  the  mimicry  of  war,  a  pic- 
ture of  the  dreadful  scenes  which  had  deluged  those  fields  in  blood.  It  was 
the  fifth  of  May.  The  magnificent  pageant  glittered  beneath  the  rays  of  a 
brilliant  sun.  A  lofty  throne  was  erected,  from  which  the  Emperor  and  Em- 
press could  overlook  the  whole  scene.  Napoleon  dressed  himself  for  the 
occasion  with  the  same  war-wasted  garments,  the  battered  hat,  the  tempest- 
torn  cloak,  the  coat  of  faded  blue,  and  the  long  cavalry  sabre,  which  he  had 
worn  amid  the  carnage  and  the  terror  of  that  awful  day.  Many  of  the  vet- 
erans who  had  been  engaged  in  the  action  were  present.  The  Emperor  and 
the  Empress  appeared  on  the  ground  in  a  magnificent  chariot  drawn  by  eight 
horses,  and  immediately  they  were  greeted  by  an  enthusiastic  shout  of  ac- 
clamation from  thirty  thousand  adoring  voices.  The  gorgeous  uniform  of 
the  men,  the  rich  caparison  and  proud  bearing  of  the  horses,  the  clangor  of 


452  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.  [CHAP.  XXIX. 

innumerable  trumpets  and  martial  bands,  the  glitter  of  gold  and  steel,  the 
deafening  thunders  of  artillery  and  musketry,  filling  the  air  with  one  inces- 
sant and  terrific  roar,  the  dense  volumes  of  sulphurous  smoke  rolling  heavily 
over  the  plain,  shutting  out  the  rays  of  an  unclouded  sun,  all  combined  to 
produce  an  effect  upon  the  spectators  never  to  be  effaced. 

On  the  26th  of  May  the  coronation  took  place  in  the  Cathedral  of  Milan. 
The  iron  crown  of  Charlemagne,  which  is  a  circlet  of  gold  and  gems  cover- 
ing an  iron  ring  formed  of  one  of  the  spikes  said  to  have  pierced  our  Savior's 
hand  at  the  Crucifixion,  had  reposed  for  a  thousand  years  in  the  church  of 
Monza.  It  was  brought  forth  from  its  mausoleum  to  embellish  the  corona- 
tion with  the  attraction  of  its  deep  poetic  sentiment.  The  ceremony  was 
conducted  with  a  magnificence  not  even  surpassed  by  the  scene  in  Notre 
Dame.  The  Empress  first  appeared,  gorgeously  dressed  and  glittering  with 
diamonds.  The  most  enthusiastic  acclamations  greeted  her  entrance.  A 
moment  after,  Napoleon  himself  appeared.  He  was  arrayed  in  imperial  robes 
of  velvet,  purple  and  gold,  with  the  diadem  upon  his  brow,  and  the  crown 
and  sceptre  of  Charlemagne  in  his  hands.  He  placed  the  crown  upon  his 
own  head,  repeating  aloud  the  historical  words,  "  God  has  given  it  to  rne — 
woe  to  him  who  touches  it !" 

He  remained  in  Milan  a  month,  busy  night  and  day  in  projecting  improve- 
ments of  the  most  majestic  character.  The  Italians,  to  the  present  day,  re- 
gard the  reign  of  Napoleon  as  the  brightest  period  of  their  modern  history. 

A  little  incident  at  this  time  occurred  which  illustrates  Napoleon's  un- 
wearied interest  in  promoting  happiness.  One  day  the  Emperor  and  Em- 
press had  broken  away  from  the  pageantry  and  cares  of  state,  and  retired  to 
the  seclusion  of  a  little  island  in  one  of  the  lakes  in  that  vicinity.  They  en- 
tered the  cabin  of  a  poor  woman.  She  had  no  idea  of  the  illustrious  char- 
acter of  her  guests,  and,  in  answer  to  their  kind  inquiries,  told  them  frankly 
the  story  of  her  penury  and  her  toils,  and  her  anxiety  for  her  children,  as  her 
husband  could  often  obtain  no  work.  Napoleon  was  interested  in  the  indi- 
cations which  he  saw  of  a  superior  character. 

"  How  much  money,"  said  he,  "  should  you  want  to  make  you  perfectly 
happy  ?" 

"  Ah  !  sir,"  she  replied,  "  a  great  deal  I  should  want." 

"  But  how  much  ?"  Napoleon  rejoined. 

"  Oh,  sir,"  she  replied,  "  I  should  want  as  much  as  eighty  dollars ;  but 
what  prospect  is  there  of  one'having  eighty  dollars  ?" 

The  Emperor  caused  an  attendant  to  pour  into  her  lap  about  six  hundred 
dollars  in  glittering  gold.  For  a  moment  she  was  speechless  in  bewilder- 
ment, and  then  said, 

"  Ah,  sir  '  ah,  madam  !  this  is  too  much  ;  and  yet  you  do  not  look  as  if 
you  could  sport  with  the  feelings  of  a  poor  woman." 

"  No,"  Josephine  replied,  in  most  gentle  accents,  "  the  money  is  all  yours  ; 
with  it  you  can  now  rent  a  piece  of  ground,  purchase  a  flock  of  goats,  and 
I  hope  you  will  be  able  to  bring  up  your  children  comfortably."  Napoleon's 
tact  in  detecting  character  ever  enabled  him  to  judge  accurately  where  as- 
sistance could  be  judiciously  conferred. 

Before  leaving  Milan,  Napoleon  received  a  number  of  intercepted  dis- 


1805.]  THE  THRONE  OF  ITALY.  453 

patches  of  Sir  Arthur  Wellesley,  containing  a  detailed  account  of  the  enor- 
mous acquisitions  the  English  were  making  in  India.  He  commented  upon 
these  dispatches  with  great  seventy.  The  cabinet  of  London  were  holding 
up  to  the  execration  of  Europe  the  illimitable  ambition  of  the  French  mon- 
arch for  striving  to  strengthen  himself  against  the  hostile  monarchies  around 
him  by  friendly  associations  and  alliances  with  such  powers  as  his  genius 
could  create.  At  the  same  time,  this  same  cabinet  was  issuing  orders  to 
extend  the  British  dominion  over  an  extent  of  country  and  a  population  al- 
most equal  to  that  of  all  Europe.  In  this  career  of  aggression  against  the 
East  Indies,  England  could  not  even  offer  the  plea  that  she  was  an  invited 
liberator,  or  that  she  was  conquering  in  a  defensive  war.  It  is,  indeed,  more 
easy  to  see  the  mote  in  our  neighbor's  eye  than  to  discern  the  beam  in  our 
own. 

From  Milan,  the  Emperor  and  Empress  continued  their  tour  to  Genoa. 
The  restless  and  never-exhausted  mind  of  Napoleon  was  weary  at  even  the 
swiftest  speed  of  the  horses.  Though  they  drove  from  post  to  post  with  the 
utmost  possible  rapidity,  so  that  it  was  necessary  continually  to  throw  water 
on  the  glowing  axle,  he  kept  calling  from  his  carriage,  "  On  !  on  !  We  do 
not  go  fast  enough  !"  Their  reception  in  Genoa  was  magnificent  in  the  ex- 
treme. In  the  beautiful  bay,  a  floating  garden  of  orange-trees  was  con- 
structed in  honor  of  Josephine.  In  the  principal  church  the  Emperor  and 
Empress  received  the  allegiance  of  the  most  prominent  inhabitants. 

As  they  were  crossing  the  Alps,  Napoleon,  alighting  from  his  carriage,  pro- 
ceeded on  foot  some  distance  in  advance  of  the  party.  He  met  a  peasant 
v;  ;man. 


NAPOLEON  AND  THE  PEASANT. 

"Where  are  you  hastening  so  eagerly  this  morning?"  said  he. 


454 


NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE. 


[CHAP.  XXIX 

"  To  see  the  Emperor,"  she  replied.  "  They  tell  me  the  Emperor  is  to 
pass  this  way." 

"And  why  do  you  wish  to  see  him?"  said  Napoleon;  "what  have  you 
done  but  exchanged  one  tyrant  for  another  ?  You  have  had  the  Bourbons, 
now  you  have  Napoleon." 

The  woman  for  a  moment  was  staggered,  and  then  replied, 

"  It  is  no  matter ;  Napoleon  is  our  king,  but  the  Bourbons  were  the  kings 
of  the  nobles}'' 

"This,"  said  Napoleon  to  one  to  whom  he  related  the  anecdote,  "com- 
prehends the  whole  matter." 

Napoleon,  having  appointed  Eugene  Beauharnais  viceroy  of  Italy,  returned 
to  Paris,  and  here  wearing  with  perfect  ease  the  weight  of  two  crowns,  he 
resumed  his  life  of  unintermitted  toil.  His  habits  of  life  were  regular  and 
temperate  in  the  extreme.  After  issuing  each  morning  the  orders  of  the 
day,  and  having  received  those  who  were  entitled  to  the  privilege  of  an 
audience,  he  breakfasted  at  nine  o'clock.  The  breakfast  seldom  lasted  more 
than  eight  or  ten  minutes.  Returning  to  his  cabinet,  he  applied  himself  to 
business,  and  received  the  ministers,  who  attended  with  their  port-folios. 
These  occupations  lasted  until  six  in  the  evening.  Then  dinner  was  served. 
The  Emperor  and  Empress  usually  dined  alone.  The  dinner  consisted  of 
but  one  course,  prolonged  by  the  dessert.  The  only  wine  he  drank  was  a 
very  light  French  wine,  mingled  with  water.  Ardent  spirits  he  never  drank. 
The  dinner  usually  lasted  not  more  than  twenty  minutes.  Returning  to  the 
drawing-room,  a  servant  presented  him  with  a  cup  of  coffee.  He  then  re- 
turned  to  his  cabinet  to  resume  his  labors,  rigorously  acting  upon  the  princi. 
pie  never  to  put  off  till  to-morrow  what  could  be  done  to-day.  The  Em. 


NAPOLEON    IN    THE    SALOON    OF    JOSEPHINE. 


press  descended  to  her  apartments,  where  she  found  the  ladies  of  honor  in 

attendance. 


1805.]  THE  THRONE  OF  ITALY.  455 

Napoleon  occasionally,  for  a  few  moments,  would  leave  his  cabinet  after 
dinner,  and  enter  the  apartments  of  Josephine,  to  speak  a  few  words  with 
the  ladies  who  were  assembled  there.  Leaning  upon  the  back  of  a  chair,  he 
would  converse  with  that  frankness  with  which  he  ever  charmed  all  whom 
he  addressed.  In  the  evening  he  held  a  levee,  when  the  officers  on  duty  re- 
ceived their  orders  for  the  next  day.  Such  was  the  life  of  the  people's  king. 
How  different  from  that  of  the  voluptuous  monarchs  who  had  previously 
reveled  in  the  palaces  of  France.  Napoleon's  personal  tastes  were  extremely 
simple  and  modest,  but  he  loved  to  see  around  his  court  a  brilliant  display 
of  magnificence,  deeming  it  essential  to  impress  the  imaginations  of  the 
French  people.  In  private,  few  persons  have  manifested  more  polite  and 
genial  manners  in  their  intercourse  with  those  around  them,  though  there 
were  occasions  when  Napoleon,  intensely  occupied  with  the  affairs  of  state, 
would  arise  from  the  breakfast  table  and  the  dinner  table  without  the  utter- 
ance of  a  single  word. 

Immediately  after  the  coronation  of  the  Emperor,  Louis  XVIII.  entered 
his  earnest  protest  against  Napoleon's  right  to  the  throne.  Napoleon  caused 
this  protest  to  be  published,  without  note  or  comment,  in  the  Moniteur,  that 
it  might  be  read  by  all  France.  This  was  his  only  and  his  noble  response. 
When  Napoleon  first  perused  this  production,  he  calmly  said,  "  My  right  is 
the  will  of  France.  While  I  have  a  sword  I  shall  maintain  it."  The  ques- 
tion whether  the  hereditary  succession  to  the  throne  should  be  invested  in 
the  family  of  Napoleon  had  been  submitted  to  the  people.  More  than  three 
and  a  half  millions  voted  in  favor,  while  but  about  two  thousand  voted  against 
it.  Such  unanimity  in  behalf  of  any  ruler  earth  has  never  before  recorded. 

The  English  cabinet,  trembling  in  view  of  the  black  cloud  of  invasion 
threatening  their  shores,  and  which  cloud  every  day  grew  blacker  and 
blacker  with  its  surcharged  thunders,  roused  its  energies  to  form  new  coali- 
tions against  France.  The  representations  she  made  on  the  subject  of  Na- 
poleon's encroachments  were  favorably  listened  to  by  Austria,  Russia,  and 
Sweden.  A  hostile  coalition  was  formed,  the  expenses  of  which  were  to  be 
borne  chiefly  by  the  British  people,  for  a  combined  movement  to  overthrow 
the  throne  of  the  plebeian  monarch.  An  attack  upon  France  by  the  Northern 
powers  might  interrupt  the  project  and  divert  the  attention  of  the  terrible 
army  threatening  the  invasion  of  England.  Napoleon  was  well  informed  of 
the  intrigues  in  progress  against  him.  He  secretly  watched  the  tendency 
of  events,  while  he  took  no  public  notice  which  could  indicate  his  knowledge 
of  the  designs  which  were  forming.  Under  these  circumstances,  and  various 
disappointments  having  occurred  in  his  attempts  to  assemble  a  fleet  in  the 
Channel,  Napoleon  hesitated  in  what  direction  to  encounter  his  foes — 
whether  upon  the  shores  of  England,  or  to  march  to  meet  them  as  they 
should  press  through  the  defiles  of  Germany.  After  numerous  perplexities, 
he  said,  "  My  resolution  is  fixed.  My  fleets  were  lost  sight  of  from  the 
heights  of  Cape  Ortegal  on  the  14th  of  August.  If  they  come  into  the 
Channel,  there  is  time  yet.  I  embark,  and  I  make  the  descent.  I  go  to 
London,  and  there  cut  the  knot  of  all  coalitions.  If,  on  the  contrary,  my  ad- 
miral fails  in  conduct  or  in  firmness,  I  raise  my  ocean  camp,  I  enter  Ger- 
many with  two  hundred  thousand  men,  and  I  do  not  stop  till  I  have  scored 


456  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.  [CHAP.  XXIX. 

the  game  at  Vienna,  taken  Venice  and  all  the  chiefer  cities  of  Italy  from 
Austria,  and  driven  the  Bourbons  from  Italy.  I  will  not  allow  the  Austrians 
and  the  Russians  to  assemble.  I  will  strike  them  down  before  they  can 
form  their  junction.  The  Continent  being  pacified,  I  will  return  to  the  ocean, 
and  work  anew  for  maritime  peace." 

All  things  were  now  prepared  for  the  invasion.  Napoleon  was  only  wait- 
ing the  arrival  of  the  fleet.  Officers  were  stationed  with  their  glasses  at  va- 
rious points  of  the  coast,  to  observe  all  that  was  visible  upon  the  sea,  and  to 
report  to  him. 

Thus  passed  three  days  of  intolerable  suspense,  but  no  fleet  appeared. 
Admiral  Villeneuve,  in  grossest  defection  from  duty,  had  frustrated  the  whole 
plan.  It  was  one  of  the  deepest  disappointments  of  Napoleon's  life.  Na- 
poleon was  extremely  irritated.  His  whole  soul  was  aroused  into  intensity 
of  disappointment  and  vexation.  He  launched  out  into  long  and  fierce  in- 
vectives against  the  incapacity  of  his  naval  officers  ;  said  that  he  was  betray- 
ed by  cowardice  ;  deplored  in  strains  of  anguish  the  ruin  of  the  most  splendid 
and  perfectly  arranged  plans  he  had  ever  conceived. 

Suddenly  the  storm  passed  away.  With  that  self-control  which  so  won- 
derfully characterized  him,  he  in  an  hour  mastered  his  agitation,  and  calmed 
himself  into  perfect  repose.  With  surprising  facility,  he  immediately  turned 
all  the  energies  of  his  mind  from  the  invasion  of  England  to  preparation  to 
meet  the  combined  foes  who  were  gathering  to  assail  him  in  the  north.  For 
several  hours  in  succession,  with  extraordinary  precision  and  minuteness  of 
detail,  he  dictated  the  immortal  campaign  of  Ulm  and  Austerlitz.  Thus  ter- 
minated the  enterprise  of  invading  England.  But  this  project  was  no  chi- 
mera ;  though  unfinished,  it  was  one  of  the  most  majestic  enterprises  of  his 
life. 

If  ever  a  nation  was  authorized  to  engage  in  a  war  of  self-defense,  Napo- 
leon wras  right  in  this  endeavor  to  resist  those  unrelenting  foes  whom  no 
pleas  for  peace  could  disarm.  In  reference  to  the  change  of  the  government 
of  France,  Napoleon,  at  St.  Helena,  made  the  following  profound  remarks : 
"  My  object  was  to  destroy  the  whole  of  the  feudal  system  as  organized  by 
Charlemagne.  With  this  view,  I  created  a  nobility  from  among  the  people, 
in  order  to  swallow  up  the  remains  of  the  feudal  nobility.  The  foundations 
of  my  ideas  of  fitness  were  abilities  and  personal  worth,  and  I  selected  the 
son  of  a  farmer  or  an  artisan  to  make  a  duke  or  a  marshal  of  France.  I 
sought  for  true  merit  among  all  ranks  of  the  great  mass  of  the  French  peo- 
ple, and  was  anxious  to  organize  a  true  and  general  system  of  equality.  I 
was  desirous  that  every  Frenchman  should  be  admissible  to  all  the  employ- 
ments and  dignities  of  the  state,  provided  he  was  possessed  of  talents  and 
character  equal  to  the  performance  of  the  duties,  whatever  might  be  his  fam- 
ily. In  a  word,  I  was  eager  to  abolish,  to  the  last  trace,  the  privileges  of 
the  ancient  nobility,  and  to  establish  a  government,  w-hich,  at  the  same  time 
that  it  held  the  reins  of  government  with  a  firm  hand,  should  still  be  a  popu- 
lar government.  The  oligarchs  of  every  country  in  Europe  soon  perceived 
my  design,  and  it  was  for  this  reason  that  war  to  the  death  was  carried  on 
against  roe  by  England.  The  noble  families  of  London,  as  well  as  those  of 
\  ienna,  *^ink  themselves  prescriptively  entitled  to  the  occupation  of  all  the 


1805  ]  THE  THRONE  OF  ITALY.  457 

important  offices  in  the  state,  and  the  management  and  handling  of  the  pub- 
lic money.  Their  birth  is  regarded  by  them  as  a  substitute  for  talents  and 
capacities ;  and  it  is  enough  for  a  man  to  be  the  son  of  his  father,  to  be  fit 
to  fulfill  the  duties  of  the  most  important  employments  and  highest  dignities 
of  the  state.  They  are  somewhat  like  kings  by  divine  right.  The  people 
are,  in  their  eyes,  merely  milch  cows,  about  whose  interests  they  feel  no 
concern,  provided  the  treasury  is  always  full,  and  the  crown  resplendent 
with  jewels.  In  short,  in  establishing  an  hereditary  nobility  I  had  three  ob- 
jects in  view : 

"  1st.  To  reconcile  France  writh  the  rest  of  Europe.  2dly.  To  reconcile  old 
with  new  France.  3dly.  To  put  an  end  to  all  feudal  institutions  in  Europe, 
by  reconnecting  the  idea  of  nobility  with  that  of  public  services,  and  detach- 
ing it  from  all  prescriptive  or  feudal  notions.  The  whole  of  Europe  was 
governed  by  nobles  who  were  strongly  opposed  to  the  progress  of  the  French 
Revolution,  and  who  exercised  an  influence  which  proved  a  serious  obstacle 
to  the  development  of  French  principles.  It  was  necessary  to  destroy  this 
influence,  and  with  that  view  to  clothe  the  principal  personages  of  the  empire 
with  titles  equal  to  theirs."* 

The  life  of  Napoleon  is  extremely  rich  in  well  authenticated  anecdotes  il- 
lustrative of  the  peculiarities  of  his  character ;  and  it  is  difficult  to  find  any 
anecdote  respecting  him,  bearing  the  impress  of  genuineness,  which  does  not 
indicate  a  spirit  humane,  generous,  and  lofty.  All  the  battered  and  muti- 
lated veterans  in  the  Hotel  des  Invalides,  in  Paris,  tell  with  enthusiasm  their 
treasured  anecdotes  of  the  Emperor.  Every  person  who  has  had  any  inter- 
course with  this  extraordinary  man,  either  as  a  companion  in  arms,  in  the 
cabinet,  or  as  a  servant,  glow's  with  excitement  when  speaking  of  the  exalt- 
ed intellect  and  the  kindly  heart  of  their  adored  master. 

Baron  Langon  says,  "  The  present  generation,  who  see  thrones  filled  by 
men  of  the  ordinary  stamp,  are  unable  to  comprehend  the  state  of  feeling 
with  which  the  Emperor  inspired  us.  Providence  has  not  granted  to  them 
the  favor,  which  must  ever  be  our  pride  and  glory,  to  have  been  face  to  face 
with  Napoleon,  to  have  heard  his  voice  vibrate  through  our  ears  and  hearts, 
and  to  have  gazed  upon  his  placid  and  majestic  countenance.  To  us,  Napo- 
leon was  not  a  mere  emperor,  he  was  a  being  of  a  higher  order — one  of  those 
sublime  creations  that  perhaps  help  to  exalt  our  ideas  of  the  Creator.  Na- 
poleon was  our  father,  our  master,  in  some  degree  our  idol.  We  young  men 
cherished  for  him  the  affection  and  duty  of  sons.  There  existed  between 
him  and  ourselves  a  positive  sympathy,  which  made  us  regard  as  a  sacred  and 
family  duty  that  which  the  present  generation  of  young  Frenchmen  would 
pronounce  to  be  servility  and  base  vassalage." 

On  one  occasion  a  soldier  of  his  consular  guard  committed  suicide  from  a 
disappointment  in  love.  Napoleon  issued  the  following  order  of  the  day : 
"  The  grenadier  Gobain  has  committed  suicide  from  love.  He  was  in  other 

*  "  A  new  hereditary  nobility  was  now  created,  in  order,  as  the  Emperor  expressed  himself,  to 
give  '  the  imperial  throne  the  requisite  dignity,  and  to  excite  a  praiseworthy  emulation  in  the 
hearts  of  the  French.'  The  titles  of  the  new  nobility  were  those  of  the  feudal  times,  yet  no  privi- 
leges were  attached  to  these  titles.  This  blow  was  considered  by  the  old  nobility  more  severe 
than  any  previous  one,  and  perhaps  was  so." — Encyclopedia  Amrricana,  Article  Napoleon. 


458  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.  [CHAP.  XXIX. 

respects  an  excellent  soldier.  This  is  the  second  incident  of  the  same  na- 
ture which  has  occurred  within  a  month.  The  First  Consul  directs  it  to  be 
inserted  in  the  order-book  of  the  guard,  that  a  soldier  ought  to  know  how  to 
vanquish  the  pangs  and  melancholy  of  the  passions  ;  that  there  is  as  much 
true  courage  in  bearing  up  against  mental  sufferings  with  constancy  as  in  re- 
maining firm  on  the  wall  of  a  battery.  To  yield  ourselves  to  grief  without 
resistance,  or  to  kill  ourselves  to  escape  affliction,  is  to  abandon  the  field  of 
battle  before  the  victory  is  gained." 

One  day,  Napoleon  was  traversing  the  camp,  attended  by  two  officers, 
when  he  met  a  very  pretty  sutler  woman,  weeping  bitterly,  and  leading  by 
the  hand  a  little  boy  about  five  years  old.  The  Emperor,  who  happened  to 
be  unknown  to  the  woman,  reined  up  his  horse,  and  inquired  into  the  cause 
of  her  grief.  The  woman,  much  disconcerted,  made  no  reply,  but  the  child 
frankly  answered : 

"  My  mother  is  crying,  sir,  because  my  father  has  beat  her." 

"  And  where  is  your  father  ?" 

"  He  is  close  by.     He  is  a  sentinel  on  duty  with  the  baggage." 

Napoleon  again  addressed  himself  to  the  woman,  and  inquired  the  name 
of  her  husband.  She  refused  to  tell,  being  fearful  that  the  Captain,  as  she 
supposed  the  Emperor  to  be,  would  cause  him  to  be  punished. 

"  Your  husband  has  been  beating  you,"  Napoleon  said  ;  "  you  are  weeping, 
and  yet  you  are  so  afraid  of  getting  him  into  trouble  that  you  will  not  even 
tell  me  his  name.  This  is  very  inconsistent.  May  it  not  be  that  you  are  a 
little  in  fault  yourself  ?" 

"Alas  !  Captain,"  the  forgiving  wife  replied,  "he  has  a  thousand  good 
qualities,  though  he  has  one  very  bad  one.  He  is  jealous,  terribly  jealous ; 
and  when  he  gets  into  a  passion  he  can  not  restrain  his  violence.  And  I  love 
him,  for  he  is  my  lawful  husband,  and  the  father  of  my  dear  boy  !"  So  say- 
ing, she  fondly  kissed  her  child,  who,  by  the  way  in  wrhich  he  returned  her 
caresses,  proved  his  affection  for  his  mother. 

Napoleon  was  deeply  touched  by  this  little  domestic  drama.  Burdened  as 
he  was  with  the  cares  of  empire,  he  could  turn  aside  from  them  to  dry  up 
the  fountain  of  sorrow  in  the  heart  of  this  humble  follower  of  the  camp.  Ad- 
dressing the  woman  again,  he  said  :  "Whether  you  and  your  husband  love 
each  other  or  not,  I  do  not  choose  that  he  should  beat  you.  Tell  me  your 
husband's  name,  and  I  will  mention  the  affair  to  the  Emperor." 

"  If  you  were  the  Emperor  himself,"  she  replied,  "  I  would  not  tell  it  you, 
for  I  know  that  he  would  be  punished." 

"  Silly  woman  !"  Napoleon  rejoined  ;  "  all  that  I  want  is  to  teach  him  to 
behave  well  to  you,  and  to  treat  you  with  the  respect  you  deserve."  Then 
shrugging  his  shoulders,  he  made  some  further  remark  upon  female  obstina- 
cy, and  galloped  away. 

"  Well,  gentlemen,"  said  he  to  his  companions,  "  what  do  you  think  of 
that  affectionate  creature  ?  There  are  not  many  such  women  at  the  Tuiler- 
ies.  A  wife  like  that  is  a  treasure  to  her  husband."  Immediately  he  dis- 
patched an  aid  to  desire  the  commander  of  the  escort  to  come  to  him.  He 
inquired  very  particularly  respecting  the  woman,  her  husband,  and  the 
child. 


1805.]  THE  THRONE  OF  ITALY.  459 

"  He  is,"  said  the  officer,  "one  of  the  best  behaved  men  in  the  company. 
He  is  very  jealous  of  his  wife,  but  without  reason.  The  woman's  conduct  is 
irreproachable." 

"  Try  and  ascertain,"  said  Napoleon,  "  if  he  has  ever  seen  me ;  if  he  has 
not,  bring  him  hither." 

It  appeared  that  Napoleon  had  never  been  seen  by  the  grenadier,  who 
was  a  fine-looking  young  man  of  about  five-and-twenty,  who  had  recently 
joined  the  army.  When  he  was  conducted  to  Napoleon,  the  latter  said,  in 
a  familiar  tone, 

"  What  is  the  reason,  my  lad,  that  you  beat  your  wife  ?  She  is  a  young 
and  pretty  woman,  and  is  a  better  wife  than  you  are  a  husband.  Such  con- 
duct is  disgraceful  in  a  French  grenadier." 

"  If  women  are  to  be  believed,"  the  man  replied,  "they  are  never  in  the 
, wrong.  I  have  forbidden  my  wife  to  talk  to  any  man  whatever;  and  yet, 
in  spite  of  my  commands,  I  find  her  constantly  gossiping  with  one  or  another 
of  my  comrades." 

"  Now,  there  is  your  mistake.  You  want  to  prevent  a  woman  from  talk- 
ing ;  you  might  as  well  try  to  turn  the  course  of  the  Danube.  Take  my  ad- 
vice :  do  not  be  jealous.  Let  your  wife  gossip  and  be  merry.  If  she  were 
doing  wrong,  it  is  likely  she  would  be  sad  instead  of  gay.  I  desire  that  you 
do  not  strike  your  wife  again.  If  my  order  be  not  obeyed,  the  Emperor 
shall  hear  of  it.  Suppose  his  majesty  were  to  give  you  a  reprimand,  what 
would  you  say  then  ?" 

The  man,  not  a  little  irritated  at  this  interference  with  his  marital  privi- 
leges, replied,  "My  wife  is  mine,  general,  and  I  may  beat  her  if  I  choose; 
I  should  say  to  the  Emperor,  'Look  you  to  the  enemy,  and  leave  me, to 
manage  my  wife.'  ' 

Napoleon  laughed  and  said,  "  My  good  fellow,  you  are  now  speaking  to 
the  Emperor." 

The  word  fell  upon  the  soldier's  heart  like  magic.  Much  confused,  he 
hung  his  head,  lowered  his  voice,  and  said,  "  Oh,  sire  !  that  quite  alters  the 
case.  Since,  your  majesty  commands,  I  of  course  obey." 

"  That  is  right,"  Napoleon  replied.  "  I  hear  an  excellent  character  of 
your  wife;  every  body  speaks  well  of  her  ;  she  braved  my  displeasure  rather 
than  expose  you  to  punishment ;  reward  her  by  kind  treatment.  I  promote 
you  to  the  rank  of  sergeant.  Apply  to  the  grand  marshal,  and  he  will  give 
you  one  hundred  dollars ;  with  that  you  can  furnish  your  sutler's  stores, 
which  will  enable  your  wife  to  carry  on  a  profitable  business.  Your  son  is 
a  fine  boy,  and  at  some  future  time  he  shall  be  provided  for.  But,  mind ! 
never  let  me  hear  of  your  beating  your  wife  again.  If  I  do,  you  shall  find 
that  I  can  deal  hard  blows  as  well  as  you." 

Several  years  after  this,  the  Emperor  wras  with  the  army  in  another  cam- 
paign. Napoleon,  who  had  a  wonderful  power  of  recollecting  the  counte- 
nances of  persons  whom  he  had  once  seen,  met  the  "  daughter  of  the  regi- 
ment" and  her  son,  and  immediately  rode  up  to  her,  saying,  "  Well,  my  good 
woman  !  how  do  you  do  ?  Has  your  husband  kept  the  promise  he  made 


me 


The  affectionate  wife  burst  into  tears,  and  throwing  herself  at  the  Emper- 


460  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.          [CHAP.  XXIX. 

or's  feet,  exclaimed,  "  Oh,  sire  !  sire  !  since  my  good  star  led  me  into  the 
presence  of  your  majesty,  I  have  been  the  happiest  of  women." 

"  Then  reward  me,"  said  Napoleon,  "  by  being  the  most  virtuous  of  wives." 
With  these  words  he  tossed  a  few  pieces  of  gold  into  her  hands  and  rode 
away,  while  the  whole  battalion  raised  an  enthusiastic  shout  of  "Vive  I'Em- 
pereur !" 

Napoleon,  at  St.  Helena,  was  conversing  with  Las  Casas  upon  the  subject 
of  the  invasion  of  England,  when  the  following  conversation  ensued  • 

"  Were  the  English  much  afraid  of  my  invasion  ?"  inquired  the  Emperor. 
"  1  can  not  inform  you,"  said  Las  Casas ;  "  but  in  the  saloons  of  Paris  we 
laughed  at  the  idea."  "Well,"  replied  Napoleon,  "  you  might  have  laughed 
in  Paris,  but  Pitt  did  not  laugh  in  London.  He  soon  calculated  the  extent 
of  his  danger,  and  therefore  threw  a  coalition  upon  my  back  when  I  had 
raised  my  arm  to  strike.  Never  was  the  English  oligarchy  exposed  to 
greater  danger.  I  had  taken  measures  to  preclude  the  possibility  of  failure 
in  my  landing.  I  had  the  best  army  in  the  world ;  I  need  only  say  it  was 
the  army  of  Austerlitz.  In  four  days  I  should  have  been  in  London.  I 
should  have  entered  the  English  capital,  not  as  a  conqueror,  but  as  a  libera- 
tor. I  should  have  been  another  William  III. ;  but  I  would  have  acted  with 
greater  generosity  and  disinterestedness.  The  discipline  of  my  army  was. 
perfect.  My  troops  would  have  behaved  in  London  the  same  as  they  would 
in  Paris.  No  sacrifices — not  even  contributions — would  have  been  exacted 
from  the  English. 

"  We  should  have  presented  ourselves  to  them,  not  as  conquerors,  but  as 
brothers  who  came  to  restore  to  them  their  rights  and  their  liberties.  I 
would  have  assembled  the  citizens,  and  directed  them  to  labor  themselves  in 
the  task  of  their  regeneration,  because  the  English  had  already  preceded  us 
in  political  legislation.  I  would  have  declared  that  our  only  wish  was  to  be 
able  to  rejoice  in  the  happiness  and  prosperity  of  the  English  people,  and  to 
these  professions  I  would  have  strictly  adhered.  In  the  course  of  a  few- 
months,  the  two  nations  which  had  been  such  determined  enemies  would 
have  henceforward  composed  only  one  people,  identified  in  principles,  max- 
ims, and  interests.  I  should  have  departed  from  England  in  order  to  effect, 
from  south  to  north,  under  Republican  colors  (for  I  was  then  First  Consul), 
the  regeneration  of  Europe,  which  at  a  later  period  I  was  on  the  point  of 
effecting,  from  north  to  south,  under  monarchical  forms. 

"  Both  systems  were  equally  good,  since  both  would  have  been  attended 
by  the  same  results,  and  would  have  been  carried  into  execution  with  firm- 
ness, moderation,  and  good  faith.  How  many  ills  that  are  now  endured, 
and  how  many  that  are  yet  to  be  endured,  would  not  unhappy  Europe  have 
escaped  !  Never  was  a  project  so  favorable  to  the  interests  of  civilization 
conceived  with  more  disinterested  intentions,  or  so  near  being  carried  into 
execution.  It  is  a  remarkable  fact,  that  the  obstacles  which  occasioned  my 
failure  were  not  the  work  of  men,  but  proceeded  from  the  elements.  In  the 
south,  the  sea  frustrated  my  plans  ;  the  burning  of  Moscow,  the  snow,  and 
the  winter  completed  my  ruin  in  the  north.  Thus  water,  air,  and  fire — all 
nature,  and  nature  alone,  was  hostile  to  the  universal  regeneration  which  na- 
ture herself  called  for.  The  problems  of  Providence  are  insoluble  !" 


1805.]  CAMPAIGN  OF  ULM.  461 

After  a  few  moments  of  thoughtful  silence,  he  again  said  :  "  It  was  sup- 
posed that  my  scheme  was  merely  a  vain  threat,  because  it  did  not  appear 
that  I  possessed  any  reasonable  means  of  attempting  its  execution.  But  I 
had  laid  my  plans  deeply,  and  without  being  observed.  I  had  dispersed  all 
our  French  ships,  and  the  English  were  sailing  after  them  to  different  parts 
of  the  world.  Our  ships  were  to  return  suddenly,  and  at  the  same  time,  arid 
to  assemble  in  a  mass  along  the  French  coasts.  I  would  have  had  seventy 
or  eighty  French  or  Spanish  vessels  in  the  Channel,  and  I  calculated  that  I 
should  continue  master  of  it  for  two  months.  Three  or  four  thousand  little 
boats  were  to  be  ready  at  a  signal. 

"  A  hundred  thousand  men  were  every  day  drilled  in  embarking  and  land- 
ing as  a  part  of  their  exercise.  They  were  full  of  ardor,  and  eager  for  the 
enterprise,  which  was  very  popular  with  the  French,  and  was  supported  by 
the  wishes  of  a  great  number  of  the  English.  After  landing  my  troops,  I 
could  calculate  upon  only  one  pitched  battle,  the  result  of  which  would  not 
be  doubtful ;  and  victory  would  have  brought  us  to  London.  The  nature  of 
the  country  would  not  admit  of  a  war  of  maneuvering.  My  conduct  would 
have  done  the  rest.  The  people  of  England  groaned  under  the  yoke  of  an 
oligarchy.  On  feeling  that  their  pride  had  not  been  humbled,  they  would 
have  ranged  themselves  on  our  side.  We  should  have  been  considered  only 
as  allies  come  to  effect  their  deliverance.  We  should  have  presented  our- 
selves with  the  magical  words  of  liberty  and  equality." 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

CAMPAIGN     OF     ULM. 

Causes  for  the  Misrepresentations  of  Napoleon's  Character — Independence  of  the  American  Historian 
— Admission  of  Napier — Treachery  of  Austria — Breaking  up  from  Boulogne — Address  to  the 
Senate — Comparison  of  Forces — Proclamation — Anecdote — Reply  to  the  Austrian  Officer — 
Madame  Marboeuf — Interview  of  the  Emperor  and  the  Austrian  Prince — Conference  with  Gen- 
eral Mack — Address  to  the  Austrian  Officers — Proclamation — Testimony  of  Bourrienne — The 
young  Engineer — Justice  of  Napoleon. 

AMERICANS  have  derived  their  views  of  Napoleon  from  the  Tory  historians 
of  England.  The  strongest  of  earthly  motives  have  urged,  and  still  urge, 
these  historians  to  misrepresent  his  character.  Thus  only  can  they  rescue 
the  government  of  England  from  the  condemnation  of  mankind.  For  years 
Europe  was  deluged  with  blood  These  wars  were  caused  by  the  incessant 
attacks  and  vast  alliances  with  which  the  Tory  government  of  England  en- 
deavored to  crush  the  Republican  Emperor.  What  inspired  England  to  a 
strife  so  protracted,  so  terrific  ?  Was  it  ambition  ?  Was  it  philanthropy  ? 
She  awaits  her  verdict  before  the  tribunal  of  the  world.  Her  historians  plead 
her  cause.  They  are  not  impartial  judges.  They  are  ardent  "advocates. 

In  France,  the  reputation  of  Napoleon  has  been  exposed  to  influences  al- 
most equally  adverse.  Upon  the  downfall  of  the  Republican  Emperor,  the 
Bourbons  reascended  the  throne.  Their  claims  to  the  sovereignty  of  France 
could  be  defended  only  by  representing  the  exile  of  St.  Helena  as  a  usurper 
and  a  tyrant.  Again  the  people  drove  the  Bourbons  from  the  throne.  The 
VOL.  II.— L 


462  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.  [CHAP. 

Orleans  branch  of  the  family  received  the  sceptre.  The  motive  to  withhold 
justice  from  Napoleon  continued  with  unabated  strength.  Louis  Philippe, 
during  all  his  reign,  trembled  at  the  name  of  Bonaparte.  The  historian  who 
should  have  dared  to  vindicate  the  character  of  the  great  idol  of  the  populace 
would  have  been  withered  by  the  frowns  which  would  have  darkened  upon 
him  from  the  saloons  of  Versailles,  St.  Cloud,  and  the  Tuileries.  All  the 
despots  of  Europe  have  been  equally  interested  to  misrepresent  the  career  of 
Napoleon.  He  was  the  great  advocate  oi  the  rights  of  the  people  against  the 
arrogant  assumption  of  haughty  nobles  and  feudal  kings.  By  their  combined 
power  they  crushed  their  foe.  Now  they  traduce  him. 

So  potent  have  these  influences  of  misrepresentation  been,  that  one  can 
hardly  find  in  the  United  States  a  man  who  has  passed  sixty  years  of  age 
who  does  not  think  that  Napoleon  was  a  monster  of  wickedness.  The  pub- 
lic mind  has  been  so  effectually  perverted  by  the  misrepresentations  of  years, 
that  any  impartial  statement  of  the  real  character  of  the  Emperor  is  by  many 
regarded  as  blind  eulogy. 

An  American  alone  is  favorably  situated  to  write  an  impartial  account  of 
that  terrific  conflict  which  filled  Europe  with  smouldering  cities,  and  which 
crimsoned  her  fields  with  gore.  An  American  is  exposed  to  no  influences  to 
induce  him  to  swerve  from  historical  verity.  He  has  nothing  to  hope  and 
nothing  to  fear  from  either  England  or  France.  Self-love  will  induce  him 
to  prize  his  own  reputation  as  an  impartial  historian  far  above  any  unworthy 
desire  to  eulogize  one  now  mouldering  in  the  grave.  With  three  thousand 
miles  of  ocean  rolling  between  him  and  the  scene  of  strife,  he  can  contem- 
plate the  conflict  with  a  calm  and  unprejudiced  mind. 

The  kings  of  Europe  still  look  with  awe  upon  the  dome  of  the  Invalides, 
beneath  which  repose  the  ashes  of  the  mighty  Emperor.  France,  in  every 
street  of  her  tumultuous  metropolis,  and  in  the  most  secluded  hamlets  of  her 
distant  departments,  is  still  agitated  by  the  name  of  Bonaparte.  A  fair  rep- 
resentation of  the  endeavors  of  Napoleon  to  withdraw  from  the  aristocracy 
their  exclusive  privileges,  and  to  elevate  the  masses  of  the  community  to 
self-respect  and  to  equal  rights,  would  shake  the  government  of  England  to 
its  foundation.  The  view  of  his  character  presented  in  these  pages,  if  placed 
before  the  people  of  Great  Britain,  would  be  regarded  by  the  government  as 
a  calamity.  In  America  alone  can  an  impartial  history  of  Napoleon  be  writ- 
ten, and  the  citizens  of  America  alone  are  in  a  state  of  mind  impartially  to 
scrutinize  his  astonishing  career.  Still,  no  one  can  be  blind  to  the  fact  that, 
notwithstanding  all  the  misrepresentations  of  hostile  historians,  the  reputation 
of  Napoleon  has  been  for  years  rising  higher  and  higher.  Spot  after  spot  has 
disappeared  from  the  escutcheon  of  his  fame.  There  is  an  impression  the 
world  over  that  Napoleon  was  the  friend  of  the  masses  of  the  people.  "  I 
have  no  fear,"  said  Napoleon  at  St.  Helena,  "  respecting  my  reputation. 
The  world  will  yet  do  me  justice." 

The  campaigns  of  Ulm  and  Austerlitz  will  be  remembered  while  time  en- 
dures. The  facts  are  simple.  Napoleon  was  engaged  in  a  war  of  self-de- 
fense with  England.  He  had  implored  peace.  Earnestly  he  desired  it 
Peace  alone,  by  promoting  commerce,  agriculture,  and  manufactures,  could 
make  France  rich  and  powerful.  War  was  destruction  to  his  infant  navy. 


1805.]  CAMPAIGN  C      ULM.  463 

robbed  him  of  his  colonies,  and  called  the  peasants  from  fields  of  rural  labor 
to  the  field  of  blood.  But  England  did  not  wish  France  to  be  rich  and  pow- 
erful. With  her  invincible  fleet  Britain  could  sweep  every  sea,  enrich  her- 
self with  the  spoils  of  the  Republic,  and  command  the  commerce  of  all 
climes.  Earnestly  desiring  war,  she  violated  the  most  solemn  treaty,  and 
commenced,  even  without  warning,  an  attack  upon  the  unprotected  cities 
and  the  unguarded  commerce  of  the  French.  Napoleon,  disappointed,  yet 
not  intimidated,  rose  sublimely  to  meet  the  struggle.  England  was  amazed 
and  terrified  by  his  gigantic  efforts. 

To  avert  the  impending  storm  she  strove  to  call  the  despots  of  Europe  to 
her  aid.  She  succeeded.  Russia,  Austria,  Sweden,  dreading  the  free  prin- 
ciples which  had  gained  utterance  in  France,  gladly  accepted  the  bribes 
which  England  offered  to  marshal  their  armies  for  war.  The  Allies  secretly 
organized  a  force  of  five  hundred  thousand  men  to  fall  simultaneously  upon 
France,  at  various  and  widely  distant  points.  England  agreed  to  pay  six 
millions  of  dollars  annually  for  every  one  hundred  thousand  men  the  Allies 
would  furnish.  The  fleet  of  England,  numbering  not  less  than  five  hundred 
ships  of  war,  blockaded  the  harbors  of  France  and  of  her  allies,  and  desola- 
ted with  storms  of  shot  and  shell  every  unprotected  city. 

England,  in  India,  in  Egypt,  along  the  shores  of  the  Mediterranean,  and 
in  all  seas  from  pole  to  pole,  was  extending  her  limitless  empire.  Russia, 
the  greatest  despot  of  our  globe,  was  grasping  with  her  right  arm  the  half  of 
Europe,  and  with  her  left  the  half  of  Asia,  and  was  yearly  extending  her 
sway  over  conquered  provinces.  Austria  had  overrun  a  large  portion  of 
Italy,  and,  in  banditti  alliance  with  Prussia  and  Russia,  had  dismembered 
Poland  and  divided  the  spoil.  And  yet  these  monarchs  had  the  effrontery  to 
say,  "  Behold  the  intolerable  ambition  of  Napoleon.  He  has  annexed  to 
France  Genoa,  Piedmont,  the  island  of  Elba,  and  has  accepted  the  crown 
of  Lombardy."  Napier,  the  eloquent  English  historian  of  the  Peninsular 
war,  candidly  makes  the  following  admission : 

"  Up  to  the  peace  of  Tilsit,  the  wars  of  France  were  essentially  defensive. 
The  bloody  strife  which  wasted  the  Continent  so  many  years  was  not  a 
struggle  for  pre-eminence  between  ambitious  powers,  not  a  dispute  for  some 
accession  of  territory,  not  for  the  political  ascendency  of  one  or  other  nation, 
but  a  deadly  conflict  to  determine  whether  aristocracy  or  democracy  should 
predominate,  whether  equality  or  PRIVILEGE  should  henceforth  be  the  principle 
of  European  governments" 

And  how  can  candor  censure  Napoleon  for  this  strife.  Could  he  escape  the 
imputation  of  folly,  if,  surrounded  by  hostile  despotisms,  all  increasing  their 
power,  and  all  ready  to  band  together  for  his  destruction,  he  had  made  no 
attempt  to  strengthen  France  by  friendly  alliances  ?  And  when  thus  treach- 
erously assailed  in  every  quarter,  without  even  a  declaration  of  war,  was  it 
his  duty  quietly  to  repose  in  the  palace  of  the  Tuileries,  and  see  the  billows 
of  invasion  roll  over  his  country  ?  Was  he  bound  tamely  to  submit  to  be 
hurled  from  the  throne  upon  which  the  unanimous  voice  of  France  had 
placed  him  ?  Was  it  his  duty  to  surrender  his  countrymen  to  the  hated  des- 
potism of  a  detested  dynasty  ?  To  these  questions  impartial  history  can  re- 
turn but  one  answer. 


464  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.          [CHAP.  XXX. 

The  Allies  hoped  to  take  Napoleon  by  surprise.  No  declaration  of  war 
was  issued.  The  Austrian  minister  remained  quietly  in  Paris.  Every  pre- 
caution was  adopted  to  lull  their  victim  into  false  security.  The  destruction 
of  Napoleon  now  seemed  certain.  How  could  he  contend,  single-handed, 
against  such  myriad  foes  ?  Stealthily  the  armies  of  Austria,  80,000  strong, 
under  General  Mack,  commenced  their  march  toward  the  frontiers  of  France. 
The  Emperor  Alexander,  with  116,000  Russians,  was  hastening,  by  forced 
marches,  through  the  plains  of  Poland  to  unite  with  the  Austrians.  They 
thought  that  Napoleon,  all  engrossed  upon  the  shores  of  the  Channel,  a 
thousand  miles  distant,  was  blind  to  their  movements.  He  was  watching 
them  with  an  eagle  eye.  With  the  infatuation  of  self-confidence,  the  Aus- 
trian hosts  rapidly  advanced.  They  overran  Bavaria,  the  ally  of  France, 
and  endeavored  to  compel  the  King  of  Bavaria  to  join  in  the  assault.  They 
took  possession  of  Munich  and  Ulm,  entered  the  defiles  of  the  Black  Forest, 
and  fortified  themselves  strongly  in  all  the  outposts  which  opened  into  the 
valley  of  the  Rhine.  The  Russian  army,  with  proud  tread,  was  hastening  to 
join  them.  The  Austrians  were  full  of  satisfaction  that  at  last  they  had 
stolen  a  march  upon  so  vigilant  a  foe. 

But  Napoleon  was  not  the  man  to  be  thus  entrapped.  Like  a  whirlwind 
from  the  serene  sky  he  burst  upon  his  astounded  foes.  Indescribable  was 
the  consternation  and  bewilderment  of  the  Austrians  when  informed  that  Na- 
poleon, as  if  by  magic,  had  crossed  the  Rhine  and  the  Danube ;  that,  with 
his  whole  host,  he  was  in  their  rear,  cutting  off  all  their  supplies,  all  commu- 
nication with  Austria,  all  hope  of  relief  from  the  Russians,  and  all  possibili- 
ty of  escape.  Had  an  army  suddenly  descended  from  the  clouds,  the  Aus- 
trians could  hardly  have  been  more  utterly  confounded.  From  every  direc- 
tion Napoleon's  triumphant  columns  were  marching  upon  their  unprotected 
rear.  In  their  distraction  they  fled  this  way  and  that.  But  there  was  no 
escape — there  was  no  hope.  Every  where  they  were  entangled  in  the  mesh- 
es of  that  net  which  Napoleon  had  so  skillfully  and  so  rapidly  spread  around 
his  foes.  In  despair  they  threw  down  their  arms.  Baggage-wagons,  guns, 
muskets,  horses,  and  standards  in  vast  profusion  fell  into  the  hands  of  the 
victors.  Resistance  was  in  vain.  Napoleon  had  so  maneuvered  that  each 
Austrian  band  found  itself  surrounded  by  superior  numbers.  The  least  re- 
sistance insured  destruction.  The  marvelous  conquest  which  Napoleon  thus 
achieved  was  almost  as  bloodless  as  it  was  entire. 

As  soon  as  Napoleon,  at  Boulogne,  heard  of  the  decided  hostile  movement 
of  his  foes,  he  put  the  seal  of  silence  upon  the  press,  and  upon  the  telegraph, 
and  upon  all  the  avenues  of  information.  Twenty  thousand  carriages  were 
in  readiness  to  transport  his  host,  which,  from  its  thorough  discipline,  he 
called  the  Grand  Army,  to  the  banks  of  the  Rhine.  He  assembled  the  sol- 
diers before  him,  informed  them  of  the  perfidious  and  unprovoked  assault  of 
the  Allies,  and  of  the  necessity  of  an  immediate  march  to  Germany.  Exul- 
tant cheers  announced  the  alacrity  with  which  the  mighty  host  obeyed  its 
chieftain.  In  an  hour  all  were  in  motion.  The  genius  of  Napoleon  was 
perhaps  never  more  conspicuous  than  in  the  directions  now  given  to  the  sev- 
eral corps  of  the  army.  The  vast  plan,  extending  over  a  region  of  hundreds 
of  leagues,  embraced  the  utmost  grandeur  of  general  combination.  At  the 


/805.] 


CAMPAIGN  OF  ULM. 


465 


BREAKING  CP  FROM  BOULOGNE. 


same  time,  his  directions  were  given  to  each  of  the  generals  with  the  most 
extraordinary  minuteness  and  accuracy  of  detail.  The  daily  marches  of 
every  regiment,  the  places  of  rest,  all  were  marked  out  with  undeviating  ac- 
curacy. Almost  with  the  speed  of  thought,  nearly  two  hundred  thousand 
men  swept  over  France,  crossed  the  Rhine  and  the  Danube,  and  effectually 
blocked  up  the  retreat  of  the  foe,  even  before  that  foe  was  aware  that  the 
French  had  left  the  heights  of  Boulogne.  As  soon  as  Napoleon  had  seen  his 
whole  army  on  the  move,  he  hastened  to  Paris,  and,  assembling  the  Senate, 
he  thus  addressed  them  : 

"  Senators  !  It  is  necessary,  in  the  present  state  of  Europe,  that  I  should 
explain  to  you  my  sentiments.  I  am  about  to  quit  my  capital-,  to  place  my- 
self at  the  head  of  the  army,  to  bear  prompt  assistance  to  my  allies,  and  to 
defend  the  dearest  interests  of  my  people.  The  wishes  of  the  eternal  ene- 
mies of  the  Continent  are  accomplished.  Hostilities  have  commenced  in 
the  midst  of  Germany.  Austria  and  Russia  have  united  with  England,  and 
our  generation  is  involved  anew  in  the  calamities  of  war.  A  few  days  ago  I 
still  cherished  the  hope  that  peace  would  not  be  disturbed.  But  the  Aus- 
trian army  has  passed  the  Inn.  Munich  is  invaded.  The  Elector  of  Bava- 
ria has  been  driven  from  his  capital.  All  my  hopes  of  peace  have  vanished." 

To  meet  the  enormous  expenses  of  such  a  war  required  great  financial 
skill.  But  the  genius  of  Napoleon  was  equal  to  the  task.  He  was  so  strong- 
ly enthroned  in  the  hearts  of  his  countrymen  that  he  could  have  borrowed 
millions,  and  thus  have  imposed  upon  France  the  burden  of  taxation  which 
Pitt  has  bequeathed  to  England.  But  he  was  exceedingly  unwilling  to  throw 
any  of  the  expenses  of  the  war  upon  the  future.  "While  I  live,"  he  wrote 
to  M.  Marbois,  "I  will  not  issue  any  paper." 

Josephine  accompanied  Napoleon  to  Strasburg.     His  columns  had  strictly 


466  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.  [CHAP.  XXX. 

followed  his  orders,  and  had  pursued  the  routes  which  he  had  assigned  to 
them.  He  wrote  to  Talleyrand  : 

"  The  Austrians  are  in,  the  defiles  of  the  Black  Forest.  God  grant  that 
they  may  remain  there.  My  only  fear  is  that  we  shall  frighten  them  too 
much.  If  they  allow  me  to  gain  a  few  more  marches,  I  shall  have  com- 
pletely turned  them.  Forbid  the  newspapers  to  make  any  more  mention  of 
the  army  than  if  it  did  not  exist." 

It  was,  indeed,  a  proud  array  which  Napoleon  had  now  at  his  command. 
One  hundred  and  eighty-six  thousand  combatants,  burning  with  enthusiasm 
and  adoring  their  chief,  awaited  his  orders.  Thirty-eight  thousand  horse- 
men were  ready  to  move  with  the  celerity  of  the  wind  wherever  he  pointed. 
Three  hundred  and  forty  pieces  of  cannon,  whose  gunners  were  trained  to 
unerring  precision,  were  dragged  in  the  train  of  this  formidable  host.  Still 
he  was  contending  at  fearful  odds.  The  coalition  numbered  500,000  men. 
Of  these,  250,000  were  Austrians,  200,000  Russians,  50,000  English,  Swedes, 
and  Neapolitans.  It  was  also  known  that  200,000  Prussians  were  ready  to 
join  the  coalition  upon  the  first  reverse  attending  the  French  arms. 

As  soon  as  Napoleon  arrived  at  the  head  of  his  columns,  he  was  received 
with  shouts,  a  thousand  times  repeated,  of  "  Vive  1'Empereur !"  He  ad- 
dressed his  troops  in  one  of  those  eloquent  and  heart-stirring  proclamations 
which  ever  roused  them  to  almost  a  phrensy  of  enthusiasm.  "  Soldiers  !" 
said  he,  "  the  campaign  of  the  third  coalition  has  commenced.  Austria  has 
passed  the  Inn,  violated  its  engagements,  attacked  and  chased  our  ally  from 
his  capital.  We  will  not  again  make  peace  without  sufficient  guarantees. 
Our  generosity  shall  not  again  make  us  forget  what  we  owe  to  ourselves. 
You  are  but  the  advance-guard  of  the  Great  People.  You  may  have  forced 
marches  to  undergo,  fatigues  and  privations  to  endure.  But,  whatever  obsta- 
cles we  may  encounter,  we  shall  overcome  them,  and  never  taste  of  repose 
till  we  have  placed  our  eagles  on  the  territory  of  our  enemies." 

Matters  were  now  rapidly  approaching  a  crisis.  Mack  was  fatally  envel- 
oped in  the  divisions  of  the  French.  Napoleon  superintended  every  thing. 
He  was  every  where  present.  He  slept  not ;  he  rested  not ;  he  scarcely 
ate.  On  horseback  by  night  and  by  day,  he  passed  like  the  wind  from  post 
to  post.  His  mind  seemed  incapable  of  exhaustion,  his  body  insensible  to 
fatigue.  One  cold,  stormy  night,  when  the  rain  was  falling  in  floods,  and  a 
freezing  October  gale  swept  hillside  and  valley,  Napoleon,  spattered  with 
mud  and  drenched  with  rain,  rode  on  horseback  through  the  black  hours  till 
the  lurid  dawn  of  day.  He  then  overtook  a  division  of  his  army  toiling  pain- 
fully through  the  storm.  The  soldiers  were  half  dead  with  fatigue. 

For  many  days  and  nights  the  weather  had  been  frightful.  The  tributa- 
ries of  the  Danube  were  swollen  into  torrents.  The  snow,  melting  as  it  fell, 
had  rendered  the  roads  almost  impassable.  Without  a  murmur,  they  had 
been  making  forced  marches,  dragging  their  heavy  artillery  through  the  miry 
rut§,  and  bidding  defiance  to  every  obstacle.  In  the  gloom  of  the  dismal 
storm,  Napoleon  gathered  the  troops  in  a  circle  around  him.  Like  a  father 
talking  confidentially  to  his  children,  he  explained  to  the  soldiers  the  situa- 
tion of  the  enemy,  and  the  maneuvers  by  which  he  was  surrounding  them. 
The  soldiers,  intoxicated  by  this  proof  of  confidence  from  their  Emperor, 


1805.]  CAMPAIGN  OF  ULM.  457 

burst  into  the  most  vehement  transports  of  enthusiasm.  As  Napoleon  again 
put  spurs  to  his  horse  and  disappeared  in  the  gloom  of  distance,  a  shout  of 
exultation  rose  from  the  multitudinous  host  which  pierced  the  tempestuous 
sky,  and  outroared  the  wailings  of  the  storm.  His  words  proved  a  tonic  to 
the  whole  exhausted  host.  With  renovated  energies  they  pressed  on  their 
way. 

Napoleon's  gigantic  plan  was  completely  successful.  The  Austrians  were 
surrounded  beyond  all  hope  of  escape.  In  twenty  days,  without  a  single 
pitched  battle,  by  a  series  of  marches  and  a  few  skirmishes,  the  Austrian 
army  of  80,000  men  was  utterly  destroyed.  A  few  thousand  only,  in  fugi- 
tive bands,  eluded  the  grasp  of  the  victor,  and  fled  through  the  defiles  of  the 
mountains.  The  masterly  maneuvers  of  the  French  columns  had  already 
secured  30,000  prisoners  almost  without  bloodshed.  Thirty-six  thousand 
were  shut  up  in  Ulm.  Their  doom  was  sealed.  The  well-authenticated  fact 
seems  almost  incredible,  that  the  Austrians,  by  this  sudden  apparition  of  Na- 
poleon and  his  whole  army  in  their  rear,  by  the  blow  after  blow  which  fell 
upon  them  with  lightning  rapidity,  and  with  the  scathing  severity  of  the 
lightning's  bolt,  were  in  such  a  panic  and  so  utterly  bewildered,  that  one 
night  one  hundred  Austrians  surrendered  at  discretion  to  a  French  officer 
and  two  dragoons. 

As  the  Emperor  was  one  day  passing  through  a  crowd  of  prisoners,  an 
Austrian  officer  expressed  his  astonishment  on  seeing  the  Emperor  of  the 
French,  with  his  clothes  saturated  with  rain  and  spattered  with  mud,  pre- 
senting a  more  comfortless  aspect  than  the  meanest  drummer  in  his  army. 


ULM    AND   AUSTERLITZ. 


For  eight  days  and  nights,  during  which  the  rain  had  been  falling  almost  in- 
cessantly in  torrents,  the  Emperor  had  not  taken  off  his  clothes,  or  even  his 
boots,  or  thrown  himself  upon  a  couch  for  rest.  One  of  the  aids  explained  to 
Napoleon  the  remark  of  the  Austrian  officer.  "  Your  master,"  replied  Na- 
poleon, "  has  compelled  me  to  resume  the  character  of  a  soldier.  I  hope  he 
will  allow  that  the  throne  and  the  imperial  purple  have  not  made  me  forget 
my  first  profession." 

The  fatigue  of  the  soldiers  during  the  forced  marches  of  these  dreary  days 


468  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.  [CHAP.  XXX. 

of  mud,  and  rain,  and  freezing  cold,  was  dreadful.  After  a  sleepless  night 
upon  the  storm-drenched  ground,  they  often  toiled  all  day  almost  without 
food,  and  up  to  their  knees  in  mire.  Yet,  whenever  the  Emperor  appeared, 
new  vigor  was  infused  into  their  exhausted  frames,  and  they  greeted  him 
with  the  most  enthusiastic  acclamations.  The  Austrian  officers  expressed 
their  surprise  at  this  extraordinary  attachment,  and  wondered  that  the  sol- 
diers, in  the  midst  of  such  distress,  could  forget  their  sufferings  the  moment 
they  saw  the  Emperor.  "  They  are  right,"  Napoleon  replied  ;  "  it  is  to  spare 
their  blood  that  I  make  them  undergo  such  dreadful  fatigue." 

Jn  the  midst  of  these  stormy  scenes,  Napoleon  was  one  day  riding  on 
horseback,  when  he  saw  a  carriage  advancing.  A  lady  was  in  it,  bathed  in 
tears.  Napoleon  inquired  the  cause  of  her  distress. 

"  Sir,"  she  replied,  "  I  have  been  robbed  by  a  party  of  soldiers,  who  have 
killed  my  gardener.  I  am  going  to  request  that  your  Emperor  will  grant 
me  a  guard.  He  once  knew  my  family,  and  was  under  obligations  to  them." 

"  Your  name  ?"  inquired  Napoleon. 

"  I  am  the  daughter  of  M.  Marboeuf,"  she  replied,  "  formerly  governor  of 
Corsica." 

"  Madame,"  Napoleon  rejoined,  "  I  am  delighted  to  have  the  opportunity 
of  serving  you.  I  am  myself  the  Emperor.  Every  member  of  M.  Marbceuf  s 
family  has  a  claim  upon  my  gratitude." 

He  treated  her  with  the  greatest  possible  attention,  gave  her  a  picket  of 
chasseurs  from  his  own  guard  to  escort  her,  liberally  rewarded  her  for  the 
losses  she  had  sustained,  and  conveyed  her  to  her  home  grateful  and  happy. 

Napoleon  sent  General  Segur  to  summon  the  garrison  at  Ulm  to  surren- 
der. The  niolit  was  chill  and  black.  A  terrific  hurricane  wrecked  earth 

O 

and  sky.  The  rain  fell  in  floods.  To  pass  to  the  city  from  the  French 
camp,  the  utmost  caution  was  necessary  to  avoid  gulfs  in  which  both  man 
and  horse  might  have  foundered.  The  French  advanced  posts,  main  guards, 
videttes,  and  sentinels,  had  all  sought  shelter  from  the  drenching,  freezing 
storm.  Not  a  watch-fire  blazed  upon  the  deluged  ground.  Even  the  parks 
of  artillery  were  deserted.  With  difficulty  a  trumpeter  was  found,  under  a 
wagon,  stiff  with  cold,  and  half  drowned  with  mud  and  water.  He  was 
taken  to  accompany  the  messenger,  and  with  the  blast  of  his  bugle  to  seek 
entrance  at  the  city  gates.  The  impetuous  spirit  of  Napoleon  was  unmind- 
ful of  the  darkness,  the  cold,  and  the  tempest.  He  was  ready  for  the  as- 
sault, and  to  spare  the  effusion  of  blood  summoned  a  surrender. 

Thirty-six  thousand  Austrians,  in  the  extreme  of  dejection,  were  now 
trembling  behind  the  ramparts  of  Ulm.  Napoleon,  in  person  superintending 
the  approach,  was  hourly  contracting  the  circle  which  confined  the  Impe- 
rialists. His  guns  were  placed  upon  the  heights  wThich  commanded  the 
city,  and  now  and  then  a  shell  fell  into  the  streets,  a  dreadful  portent  to  the 
terrified  inhabitants  of  the  approaching  storm.  Nothing  remained  for  Mack 
but  capitulation.  Prince  Maurice  was  sent,  early  the  next  morning,  to  the 
head-quarters  of  Napoleon.  As  is  customary  on  such  occasions,  he  was  con- 
ducted to  head-quarters  blindfolded.  When  the  bandage  was  removed  from 
his  eyes,  he  found  himself  in  the  presence  of  the  Emperor. 

The  weather  was  dreadful.      Chilling  winds  swept  the  bleak  plains.     The 


1805.]  CAMPAIGN  OF  ULM.  459 

sleet,  which  filled  the  air,  melted  as  it  reached  the  ground,  and  the  miry  roads, 
trampled  by  horse  and  furrowed  by  artillery  wheels,  were  almost  impassable. 
The  Emperor  was  ever  ready  to  share  those  hardships  which  he  laid  upon 
his  soldiers.  The  convoy  found  him  in  a  wretched  tent,  through  \vhich  the 
storm  swept  drearily.  A  few  loose  boards  upon  the  ground  kept  his  feet 
from  the  water  which  deluged  the  plain.  The  prince  proposed  to  surrender 
upon  condition  that  the  garrison  should  be  permitted  to  retire  to  Austria. 
Napoleon  smiled,  and  replied, 

"  What  reason  can  I  have  to  comply  with  such  a  request  ?  In  a  week  you 
will  be  in  my  power  without  conditions.  I  am  perfectly  acquainted  with 
your  situation.  You  expect  the  advance  of  the  Russians.  They  have 
scarcely  yet  arrived  in  Bohemia.  And  then,  if  I  allow  you  to  depart,  what 
guarantee  have  I  that  your  troops  will  not  be  united  with  those  of  Russia, 
and  be  made  to  fight  against  me  again  ?  Your  generals  have  often  deceived 
me  thus.  I  will  not  again  be  their  dupe.  At  Marengo  I  suffered  Melas  to 
march  with  his  forces  from  Alessandria.  Two  months  afterward  Moreau 
had  to  fight  the  same  men,  notwithstanding  the  most  solemn  promises  on 
the  part  of  your  government  to  conclude  peace.  After  such  conduct  as  I 
have  experienced  from  the  Austrian  cabinet,  I  can  trust  to  no  engagement. 
The  war  is  not  of  my  seeking.  It  has  been  a  violation  of  faith  throughout. 
Return  to  your  general,  and  inform  him  that  I  can  not  grant  what  he  requires. 
Your  officers  alone  can  be  allowed  to  return  to  Austria.  The  soldiers  must 
remain  prisoners.  He  must  be  brief  in  his  decision.  I  have  no  time  to  lose. 
The  longer  he  delays,  the  worse  he  will  render  his  own  situation  and  that  of 
his  army." 

The  next  day  General  Mack  himself  visited  Napoleon.  He  was  treated 
with  that  courtesy  and  generosity  with  which  Napoleon  ever  addressed  a 
fallen  foe.  The  conqueror  demonstrated  to  General  Mack  the  utter  hope- 
lessness of  his  condition.  He  convinced  him  that  all  farther  resistance  must 
be  unavailing.  In  glowing  colors  he  depicted  the  carnage  which  must  ensue 
from  taking  the  place  by  assault.  He  implored  the  general,  as  a  humane 
man,  to  spare  him  the  cruel  necessity  of  throwing  his  shells  into  the  thronged 
dwellings  of  the  city,  and  of  surrendering  its  beautiful  streets  to  the  horrors 
of  fire  and  the  sword.  It  was  clearly  in  vain  to  protract  the  struggle.  Mack, 
with  anguish,  consented  to  the  surrender.  Napoleon  was  overjoyed  that  he 
had  thus  been  enabled  to  mitigate  the  miseries  of  war  by  disarming  his  ene- 
mies almost  without  bloodshed. 

The  next  day  was  cold,  clear,  and  brilliant.  It  witnessed  a  scene  unpar- 
alleled in  modern  warfare.  Europe  was  astonished  and  appalled  by  its  nar- 
ration. Thirty-six  thousand  troops  marched  out  of  the  gates  of  Ulm,  and 
laid  down  their  arms  before  the  conqueror.  Napoleon,  with  his  magnificent 
staff,  stood  upon  an  eminence  before  the  fire  of  a  bivouac,  as  the  melancholy 
array,  for  five  hours,  defiled  before  him.  It  must  have  been  a  proud  hour  to 
the  victor.  Yet  no  gesture  and  no  expression  of  his  serene  countenance  re- 
vealed the  slightest  emotion  of  exultation.  In  touching  terms,  magnanimous 
and  sympathetic,  he  thus  addressed  the  vanquished  officers-: 

"  Gentlemen, — War  has  its  chances.  Often  victorious,  you  must  expect 
sometimes  to  be  vanquished.  Your  master  wages  against  me  an  unjust  war- 


470 


NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE. 


[CHAP.  XXX, 


NAPOLEON    BEFORE    ULM. 


I  say  it  candidly,  I  know  not  for  what  I  am  fighting.  I  know  not  what  he 
requires  of  me.  lie  has  wished  to  remind  me  that  I  was  once  a  soldier.  I 
trust  he  will  find  that  I  have  not  forgotten  my  original  avocation.  I  want 
nothing  on  the  Continent.  I  desire  ships,  colonies,  and  commerce.  Their 
acquisition  would  be  as  advantageous  to  you  as  to  me." 

Again  he  remarked  to  a  group  of  Austrian  officers,  as  the  procession  of 
captives  continued  to  defile  before  him,  "  It  is  truly  deplorable  that  such 
honorable  men  as  yourselves,  whose  names  are  spoken  of  with  honor  wher- 
ever you  have  combated,  should  be  made  the  victims  of  an  insane  cabinet 
intent  on  most  chimerical  projects.  It  was  already  a  sufficient  crime  to  have 
attacked  me  in  the  midst  of  peace  without  any  declaration  of  war.  But  this 
offense  is  trivial  compared  with  that  of  bringing  into  the  heart  of  Europe  a 
horde  of  barbarians,  and  allowing  an  Asiatic  power  to  mix  itself  up  with  our 
disputes.  Instead  of  attacking  me  without  a  cause,  the  Aulic  Council  should 
rather  have  united  their  forces  to  mine,  in  order  to  repel  the  Russian  force. 
Such  an  alliance  is  monstrous.  It  is  the  alliance  of  the  dogs  and  the  wolves 
against  the  sheep.  Had  France  fallen  in  the  strife,  you  would  not  have  been 
long  in  perceiving  the  error  you  had  committed." 

At  this  moment  a  French  officer  repeated  an  insulting  expression  which 


1805.]  CAMPAIGN  OF  ULM.  471 

he  had  heard  from  the  common  soldiers  in  regard  to  the  Austrian  captives. 
Napoleon  severely  rebuked  the  officer,  and  ordered  him  to  retire.  "  You 
must  have  little  respect  for  yourself,"  said  he,  "  to  insult  men  bowed  down 
by  such  a  misfortune." 

The  joy  and  exultation  in  the  French  army  passed  all  bounds.  Such  vic- 
tories, with  so  little  bloodshed,  were  never  known  before.  The  enthusiasm 
of  the  troops  and  their  devotion  to  the  Emperor  became  boundless.  "  The 
Little  Corporal,"  exclaimed  the  veterans  to  each  other,  "  has  discovered  a 
new  method  of  carrying  on  war.  He  makes  more  use  of  our  legs  than  of 
our  bayonets."  The  following  proclamation  electrified  Europe  by  the  stu-- 
pendous  successes  it  commemorated,  and  by  the  nervous  eloquence  with 
which  its  sentences  glowed. 

"  Soldiers  of  the  grand  army  !  In  fifteen  days  we  have  concluded  a  cam- 
paign. We  have  kept  our  promise.  We  have  chased  the  troops  of  Austria 
from  the  Bavarian  territories,  and  have  re-established  our  ally  in  the  posses- 
sion of  his  states.  That  army  which,  with  so  much  ostentation  and  pre- 
sumption, had  advanced  to  our  frontiers,  is  annihilated.  But  what  signifies 
that  to  England  ?  We  are  no  longer  at  Boulogne. 

"Of  100,000  men  who  composed  that  army,  60,000  are  prisoners.  They 
will  replace  our  conscripts  in  the  labor  of  the  fields.  Two  hundred  pieces 
of  cannon,  their  whole  park  of  ammunition,  and  ninety  standards,  are  in  our 
possession.  From  that  whole  army  not  fifteen  thousand  have  escaped. 

"  Soldiers !  I  announced  to  you  a  great  battle ;  but,  thanks  to  the  faulty 
combinations  of  the  enemy,  I  have  obtained  these  immense  advantages  with- 
out incurring  any  risk.  And,  what  is  unexampled  in  the  history  of  nations, 
this  great  result  has  not  weakened  us  by  the  loss  of  fifteen  hundred  men. 
Soldiers !  This  astonishing  success  is  owing  to  your  boundless  confidence  in 
your  Emperor,  to  your  patience  in  undergoing  fatigue,  to  your  rare  intrepid- 
ity. But  we  will  not  rest  here  !  Already  I  see  you  are  burning  to  com- 
mence a  second  campaign.  The  gold  of  England  has  brought  against  us  a 
Russian  army  from  the  extremities  of  the  universe.  We  will  make  it  under- 
go the  same  fate.  There  are  no  generals  there  whom  it  would  add  to  my 
glory  to  vanquish.  All  my  care  shall  be  to  obtain  the  victory  with  as  little 
effusion  of  blood  as  possible.  My  soldiers  are  my  children." 

"Napoleon,"  says  Bourrienne,  "was  completely  subdued  in  spirit  when 
he  was  the  conqueror.  He  received  the  vanquished  with  kindness.  Nor 
was  this  the  result  of  a  feeling  of  pride  concealed  under  the  mask  of  hypoc- 
risy. I  am  sure  he  pitied  them  sincerely.  I  have  often  heard  him  remark, 
'  How  much  to  be  pitied  is  a  general  on  the  day  after  a  lost  battle.' "  When 
the  Austrian  court,  in  its  exasperation,  was  about  to  wreak  unjust  vengeance 
upon  General  Mack,  Napoleon  humanely  interfered  to  save  him  from  con- 
demnation by  a  court-martial. 

He  sent  to  the  Senate  the  flags  taken  from  the  enemy.  In  his  letter  to 
this  body  he  says,  "The  primary  object  of  the  war  is  already  fulfilled.  The 
Elector  of  Bavaria  is  re-established  upon  his  throne.  The  aggressors  have 
been  struck  as  by  a  thunderbolt.  Assisted  by  Divine  Providence,  I  hope,  in 
a  short  time,  to  triumph  over  all  my  enemies."  He  wrote,  at  the  same  time, 
a  circular  to  all  the  bishops  in  the  empire,  requesting  them,  in  gratitude  to 


472  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.  [ClIAP.  XXX. 

God,  to  sing  a  Te  Deum  in  all  the  churches.  "  The  dazzling  victories,"  said 
he,  "which  our  armies  have  just  obtained  against  the  unjust  league  formed 
by  the  hatred  and  the  gold  of  England,  renders  it  necessary  that  my  people 
should  address  their  thanks  to  the  God  of  armies  for  the  past,  arid  implore 
His  blessing  for  the  future." 

Just  before  the  capitulation  of  Ulm,  Napoleon  sent  Captain  Bernard,  a 
young  officer  of  engineers,  on  an  important  reconnoitering  expedition.  With 
great  skill  and  intrepidity  he  prosecuted  his  mission,  advancing  almost  to 
Vienna.  Upon  his  return  Napoleon  personally  examined  him,  and  was  much 
pleased  with  his  answers.  Among  other  things,  the  engineer  remarked  that 
it  would  be  of  great  advantage  to  direct  the  army  upon  Vienna,  passing  by 
the  fortified  places,  and  that,  once  master  of  the  capital,  the  Emperor  might 
dictate  laws  to  the  whole  Austrian  monarchy.  This  was  taking  too  great  a 
liberty.  Napoleon  severely  replied, 

"  You  are  very  presumptuous  !  A  young  officer  to  pretend  to  trace  out  a 
campaign  for  me  !  Go  and  await  my  orders." 

As  soon  as  the  young  man  had  retired,  Napoleon  turned  to  General  Rapp 
and  said,  "  There  is  a  man  of  merit.  He  has  observed  correctly.  I  shall 
not  expose  him  to  the  risk  of  being  shot.  I  shall  have  occasion  for  him  by- 
and-by.  Tell  Berthier  to  dispatch  an  order  for  his  departure  for  Illyria." 

This  young  man  finally  became  an  aid  of  Napoleon,  and  one  of  the  most 
distinguished  engineers  in  the  world.  Upon  the  overthrow  of  his  illustrious 
master,  declining  the  most  brilliant  offers  from  the  different  sovereigns  of 
Europe,  he  retired  to  the  United  States.  Here  he  took  the  command  of  the 
corps  of  engineers,  and  executed  works  in  civil  and  military  engineering 
which  will  forever  remain  memorials  of  his  genius. 

The  following  anecdote  illustrates  the  implicit  and  exact  obedience  which 
Napoleon  demanded  and  enforced.  He  arrived  at  Strasburg  the  25th  of  Sep- 
tember. He  had  ordered  all  the  divisions  of  the  grand  army,  converging  by 
various  routes,  to  defile  across  the  Rhine,  by  the  bridge  of  Kehl,  the  next 
day.  The  general  officers  were  directed  to  meet  him  at  the  head  of  the 
bridge  at  six  o'clock  in  the  morning.  An  hour  before  the  appointed  time,  in 
spite  of  the  rain  which  was  pouring  from  the  skies  in  floods,  Napoleon,  in  the 
gloom  of  the  yet  undawned  morning,  wTas  at  the  rendezvous.  The  columns 
were  already  crossing  the  bridge,  and  ranging  themselves  upon  the  other 
side  of  the  river.  As  Napoleon  sat  upon  his  horse,  exposed  to  the  fury  of 
the  storm,  the  water,  dripping  from  his  clothes,  made  quite  a  pool  beneath 
him.  His  hat  was  so  soaked  by  the  rain  that  the  rim  flapped  down  upon 
his  shoulders.  Calmly,  silently,  and  apparently  unannoyed  by  any  sense  of 
discomfort,  he  contemplated  the  passage  of  the  troops.  Soon  the  officers 
gathered  around.  Napoleon  interrupted  the  silence  by  saying, 

"  Gentlemen,  we  have  gained  a  grand  march  upon  our  enemies."  Then, 
dancing  his  eye  around  the  group,  he  exclaimed,  with  rapid  utterance,  "  But 
where  is  Vandamme  ?  Why  is  he  not  here  ?  Is  he  dead  ?" 

For  a  moment  all  were  silent.  Then  General  Chard  on  ventured  to  reply, 
"Sire,  it  is  possible  that  General  Vandamme  is  not  yet  awake.  Last  even- 
ing we  drank  several  glasses  of  wine  together  to  the  health  of  your  majesty 
and  perhaps — " 


1805.] 


CAMPAIGN  OF  ULM. 


473 


NAPOLEON    AT    THE    BRIDGE    OF    KEHL. 


"General!"  interrupted  Napoleon,  with  severity,  "you  did  well  to  drink 
to  my  health  yesterday,  but  to-day  Vandamme  does  wrong  to  sleep  when  he 
knows  that  I  await  him." 

General  Chardon  offered  to  dispatch  one  of  his  aids  to  call  his  companion 
in  arms. 

"  Let  Vandamme  sleep,"  said  Napoleon.  "  He  will  perhaps  awake  him- 
self;  then  I  will  speak  to  him." 

At  that  moment  Vandamme  appeared.  He  was  pale  with  agitation,  and 
exceedingly  embarrassed.  "  General !"  said  Napoleon,  glancing  at  him  a 
severe  look,  "it  appears  that  you  have  forgotten  the  order  which  I  have 
issued." 

"Sire,"  said  General  Vandamme,  "this  is  the  first  time  that  I  have  thus 
offended.  And  I  assure  you  that  I  was  this  morning  extremely  unwell,  be- 
cause— " 

"  Because,"  interrupted  Napoleon,  "  last  night  you  were  as  tipsy  as  a  Ger- 
man. But,  lest  that  calamity  should  happen  to  you  a  second  time,  you  will 
go  to  combat  under  the  flag  of  the  King  of  Wiirtemberg,  that,  if  possible, 
you  may  give  the  Germans  a  lesson  upon  temperance." 

Vandamme  retired  in  disgrace.  The  same  day  he  joined  the  army  off 
Wiirtemberg.  During  the  brief  campaign  he  performed  prodigies  of  valor. 
After  the  capitulation  of  Ulm,  Napoleon  again  saw  him,  commended  him  for 
his  services,  and  again  received  him  into  favor,  saying,  "  General !  never 
forget  that  I  honor  brave  men.  But  I  do  not  love  those  who  sleep  when  I 
am  waiting.  Let  us  say  no  more  about  it." 

In  crossing  a  swollen  stream,  the  captain  of  a  company  was  swept  away 
by  the  torrent.  A  soldier,  whom  that  captain  had  degraded  in  consequence 
of  some  fault  of  discipline,  plunged  into  the  stream,  and  saved  the  life  of 


474 


NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE. 


[CHAP.  XXX. 


the  drowning  officer.     Napoleon  heard  of  it.     Immediately  he  sent  for  the 
soldier. 

"  You  are  a  brave  man,"  said  he.  "  Your  captain  had  degraded  you,  and 
he  had  reason  to  do  so.  In  saving  his  life,  you  have  proved  that  there  is  no 
rancor  in  your  breast.  This  is  noble.  You  are  now  at  quits.  But  as  for' 
me,  I  am  not  at  quits  toward  you.  I  appoint  you  quarter-master,  and  make 
you  chevalier  of  the  Legion  of  Honor.  To  your  captain  you  owe  this  pro- 
motion. Go  and  thank  him." 

This  even-handed  justice,  punishing  his  proudest  generals  when  they  de- 
served it,  and  appreciating  and  rewarding,  in  the  humblest  soldier,  any  trial 
of  courage  or  magnanimity,  accounts,  in  part,  for  that  almost  superhuman 
love  with  which  Napoleon  bound  all  hearts  to  himself. 

On  the  17th  of  October,  Napoleon  rode  forty-two  miles  on  horseback  with- 
out one  moment  of  rest.  He  then,  booted  and  spurred,  arid  wrapped  in  his 
muddy  cloak,  threw  himself  upon  some  straw  in  a  cow-shed  for  an  hour  of 
sleep.  Not  a  mile  from  where  Napoleon  was  reposing,  in  the  midst  of  the 
lowing  herds,  the  Bishop  of  Augsburg  had  splendidly  illuminated  his  aristo- 
cratic palace,  and  a  bed  of  down,  curtained  with  silken  drapery,  was  pre- 
pared to  receive  the  Emperor.  But  Napoleon  would  not  sleep  in  ceiled 
chambers  when  his  soldiers  were  suffering,  through  the  dreary  night,  in  pools 
of  water  on  the  cold  unsheltered  ground. 


TUii    BIVOUAC. 


1805.]  AUSTERLITZ.  475 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 

AUSTERLITZ. 

Peril  of  the  Emperor — Oath  of  Alexander  and  Frederick  William — Daring  Energy  of  Napoleon — 
Anniversary  of  the  Coronation — Untiring  Activity  of  Napoleon — Proclamation — His  Vigilance — 
Battle  of  Austerlitz — Interview  between  the  French  and  Austrian  Emperors — Touching  Anec- 
dote— Magnanimity  of  Napoleon — Proclamation — Disappointment  of  the  Authorities  at  Paris — 
William  Pitt — Generosity  of  the  Emperor — Letters  to  Josephine. 

THE  capitulation  at  Ulm  took  place  the  20th  of  October,  1805.  Astound- 
ing as  was  the  victory  which  Napoleon  had  just  achieved,  still  his  peril  was 
imminent.  One  hundred  and  sixteen  thousand  Russians,  headed  by  the  Em- 
peror Alexander,  were  hurrying  through  the  plains  of  Poland  to  meet  Napo- 
leon. From  every  quarter  of  Austria  columns  of  troops  were  in  rapid  march 
to  unite  \vith  the  Russians.  In  a  combined  band  of  overwhelming  numbers 
they  determined  to  crush  their  audacious  foe.  Alexander  repaired  in  person 
to  Berlin,  and  employed  all  the  weight  of  his  authority,  and  all  the  fascina- 
tions of  his  captivating  manners,  to  unite  the  army  of  Prussia,  200,000 
strong,  with  the  Allies.  The  Queen  of  Prussia,  a  beautiful  woman,  proud, 
ambitious,  and  animated  by  the  inspiration  of  genius,  conceived  the  idea  of 
uniting  the  two  sovereigns  by  an  oath  which  should  never  be  forgotten.  At 
midnight,  Alexander  and  Frederick  William  descended  into  the  dark  and  dis- 
mal tomb  of  Frederick  the  Great. 

A  single  torch  revealed  the  gloom  of  the  regal  mausoleum.  Thus  stand- 
ing in  the  dead  of  night  by  the  coffin  of  the  renowned  warrior,  they  bound 
themselves  by  a  solemn  oath  to  sustain  the  cause  of  the  allied  kings  against 
those  principles  of  popular  liberty  which  threatened  the  subversion  of  every 
European  throne. 

England  disembarked  a  force  of  thirty  thousand  troops  in  Hanover  to  hast- 
en to  the  scene  of  conflict.  It  was  apparently  time  for  Napoleon  to  retreat, 
or  at  least  strongly  to  fortify  himself,  and  await  the  assault  of  his  combined 
foes.  But,,  to  the  amazement  of  all  Europe,  he  audaciously  pressed  on  into 
the  very  midst  of  impending  destruction.  Like  an  inundation,  his  victorious 
army  rolled  down  the  valley  of  the  Danube,  sweeping  every  thing  before 
them.  Neither  rivers,  nor  batteries,  nor  hostile  legions  could  for  an  hour  re- 
tard his  march.  Every  soldier  seemed  to  have  imbibed  the  spirit  of  his 
commander.  It  was  a  band  of  iron  men  insensible  to  fatigue  or  to  fear. 

In  three  days  Napoleon  entered  Munich,  the  capital  of  Bavaria.  The 
whole  city  blazed  with  illumination ;  enthusiastic  shouts  welcomed  the  de- 
liverer. But  Napoleon  rested  not  for  an  hour.  He  allowed  his  discomfited 
foes  not  one  moment  to  recover  from  their  panic.  "  Forward,  forward  to 
Vienna,"  was  the  command.  The  impetuous  torrent,  horsemen,  infantry, 
artillery,  rolled  resistlessly  on.  Terror  and  destruction  had  fallen  upon  the 
empire  so  suddenly  that  they  overawed  like  a  supernatural  infliction.  All 
Austria  was  in  consternation.  Francis  fled  from  his  capital.  The  panic  in 


476  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.  [Cl!AP.  XXXI. 

Vienna  was  dreadful ;  and  still  each  day  the  mighty  host  drew  nearer.  Re- 
sistance was  in  vain.  The  Austnans  and  Russians,  retreating  from  the  blows 
which  fell  so  thick  and  heavily  upon  them,  fled  to  join  the  proud  army  which 
Alexander  was  leading  to  the  rescue. 

On  the  morning  of  the  13th  of  November  the  bugles  of  the  French  were 
heard  upon  the  heights  which  surround  Vienna,  and  the  polished  steel  of 
their  armor  glittered  in  the  rays  of  the  morning  sun.  It  was  a  clear,  cold 
winter  day.  A  deputation  of  the  citizens  waited  upon  Napoleon,  imploring 
his  clemency.  He  assured  them  of  his  protection.  The  Russians,  in  their 
semi-barbarian  lust  and  cruelty,  had  left  desolation  wherever  they  had  ap- 
peared. The  French,  preserving  perfect  military  discipline,  and  treating  all 
the  peaceful  inhabitants  with  justice  and  with  courtesy,  were  hailed  by  the 
people  almost  as  deliverers.  No  private  property  was  allowed  to  be  touch- 
ed, and  no  person  to  be  injured.  But  the  government  chests  and  the  arse- 
nals fell  into  the  hands  of  the  victor.  They  were  abundantly  filled  with  the 
munitions  of  war.  One  hundred  thousand  muskets,  two  thousand  cannon, 
and  military  supplies  of  every  kind,  replenished  the  stores  of  the  conquerors. 
Such  achievements  were  unparalleled.  In  twenty  days  Napoleon  had 
marched  from  the  ocean  to  the  Rhine;  in  forty  days  from  the  Rhine  to  Vi- 
enna. His  foes  had  been  dispersed  before  him  like  autumnal  leaves  by  the 
whirlwind. 

But  Napoleon,  though  thus  victorious,  was  in  a  situation  critical  in  the 
extreme.  Europe  deemed  him  irretrievably  ruined.  He  was  hundreds  of 
leagues  from  his  own  capital.  It  was  cold  and  icy  winter.  With  compara- 
tively a  small  army,  he  was  far  away  in  the  heart  of  one  of  the  most  proud 
and  powerful  monarchies  upon  the  globe.  The  Archduke  Charles,  with 
70,000  Austrians,  was  rapidly  approaching  from  the  south.  Active  agents 
of  Francis  were  rallying  80,000  Hungarians  to  rush  to  the  conflict.  The 
tramp  of  100,000  Russians  was  but  a  few  days'  march  before  him.  His  rear 
was  exposed  to  assault  from  200,000  Prussians.  Surely  Napoleon  will  stop 
and  fortify  himself  behind  the  ramparts  of  Vienna.  But  no  !  The  command 
is  still  "  Onward,  onward."  Not  a  moment  was  allowed  for  repose.  Yet, 
while  thus,  with  apparent  recklessness,  pressing  forward  into  the  midst  of  his 
multitudinous  foes,  the  utmost  caution  and  vigilance  was  exercised  to  guard 
against  any  possible  disaster.  While  Napoleon  was  one  of  the  most'  adven- 
turous of  men,  he  was  also  one  of  the  most  wary  and  prudent. 

"  If  Napoleon,"  says  his  brother  Louis,  "  in  his  bold  and  often  hazardous 
actions,  seemed  to  calculate  wholly  on  his  good  fortune,  no  person  appeared 
to  leave  less  to  accident  in  the  conception  of  his  plans.  No  human  caution 
which  it  was  possible  to  adopt  was  ever,  I  believe,  neglected  or  forgotten 
by  Napoleon  previous  to  his  disastrous  campaign  at  Moscow.  He  always 
considered  things  under  every  imaginable  aspect ;  and  though  he  never,  or 
scarcely  ever,  experienced  reverses,  he  was,  in  every  enterprise,  prepared 
beforehand  for  whatever  misfortune  might  happen.  He  had  always  made 
up  his  mind  as  to  the  part  \vhich  it  might  be  necessary  for  him  to  adopt,  let 
the  result  be  what  it  would.  This  was  what  he  called  conceiving  a  plan." 

The  cold  winds  of  winter  now  swept  the  plains  ;  the  driving  snow  whiten- 
ed the  hills.  Still  the  indomitable  host  pressed  on,  till,  amid  the  dark  storms 


1805.]  AUSTERLITZ.  477 

of  the  north  it  had  disappeared  from  the  observation  of  France.  Upon  the 
field  of  Austerlitz,  fifteen  hundred  miles  from  the  capital  of  France,  Napo- 
leon met  his  foes.  An  army  of  nearly  100,000  men,  headed  by  the  two  em- 
perors, Alexander  and  Francis,  flushed  with  anticipated  victory,  arrested  the 
steps  of  the  conqueror.  Not  an  hour  was  to  be  lost.  Napoleon  had  but 
70,000  men.  From  all  directions  the  clangor  of  arms  was  heard,  as  horse- 
men and  footmen,  in  uncounted  thousands,  were  hurrying  on  to  add  still 
greater  strength  to  the  allied  host. 

It  was  the  morning  of  the  1st  of  December  when  Napoleon  came  in  sight 
of  his  foes.  With  "  inexpressible  delight"  he  says  he  beheld  their  solid  col- 
umns, dark  and  massy,  moving  before  him  at  so  short  a  distance  as  to  render 
it  evident  that  a  decisive  action  was  at  hand.  With  intense  interest  he 
watched  their  movements,  and  immediately  detected  their  plan  of  attack 
Penetrating  their  designs,  he  was  at  once  confident  of  victory.  "  To-mor- 
row," said  Napoleon,  "  before  nightfall,  that  army  shall  be  my  own." 

He  spent  the  whole  day  on  horseback,  riding  along  the  ranks,  speaking 
words  of  encouragement  to  the  soldiers,  and  studying  the  capabilities  of  the 
ground,  and  making  the  most  careful  arrangements  for  the  wounded.  It  was 
his  invariable  custom  not  only  to  give  his  directions  most  minutely,  but  also 
to  inform  himself  if  his  directions  had  been  obeyed.  Wherever  he  appeared 
among  the  troops,  he  was  greeted  with  shouts  of  "  Vive  1'Empereur  !"  The 
shades  of  night  had  settled  over  the  camp,  and  Napoleon  was  still  continu- 
ing his  preparations  for  the  decisive  battle  which  the  morning  was  to  usher 
in.  As  he  rode  along  the  lines  in  the  gloom  of  midnight,  a  soldier  attached 
to  his  bayonet  a  bundle  of  straw,  and  setting  it  on  fire,  raised  the  brilliant 
torch  in  the  air.  It  was  the  anniversary  of  the  coronation  of  the  Emperor. 
Instantly  the  whole  camp,  extending  for  miles,  blazed  with  illuminations,  as 
the  soldiers  elevated,  flaming  into  the  air,  the  straw  provided  for  their  biv- 
ouacs. The  ruddy  glow  gleamed  over  the  hills,  and  sent  wonder  and  a 
strange  apprehension  to  the  heart  of  the  hostile  legions.  Transported  with 
the  enthusiasm  of  the  moment,  the  army  raised  a  simultaneous  shout,  which, 
like  the  roar  of  many  waters,  pierced  the  night  air,  and  vibrated  in  ominous 
thunders  through  the  tents  of  the  Allies.  Napoleon  reined  in  his  horse.  It 
was  midnight.  For  a  moment,  silent,  pale,  pensive,  he  gazed  upon  the  sub- 
lime spectacle,  and  listened,  with  emotions  undivulged,  to  the  acclamations 
of  seventy  thousand  voices.  Then  retiring  to  his  tent,  he  dictated,  with  the 
utmost  rapidity  of  utterance,  the  following  proclamation  : 

"  Soldiers  !  The  Russian  army  has  presented  itself  before  you  to  revenge 
the  disasters  of  the  Austrians  at  Ulm.  They  are  the  same  men  whom  you 
have  conquered  at  Hollabrunn,  and  on  whose  flying  traces  you  have  follow-  - 
ed.  The  positions  which  we  occupy  are  formidable.  While  they  are  march- 
ing to  turn  my  right,  they  must  present  their  flank  to  your  blows.  Soldiers  ! 
I  will  myself  direct  all  your  battalions.  I  will  keep  myself  at  a  distance 
from  the  fire,  if,  with  your  accustomed  valor,  you  carry  disorder  and  confu- 
sion into  the  enemy's  ranks.  But  should  victory  appear  for  a  moment  un- 
certain, you  shall  see  your  Emperor  expose  himself  to  the  first  strokes.  Vic- 
tory must  not  be  doubtful  on  this  occasion." 

Never  before  did  a  general  venture  to  announce  to  his  soldiers  the  maneu- 
VOL.  II.— M 


478  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.  [CHAP.  XXXI. 

ver  by  which  he  expected  to  gain  a  victory.  A  single  deserter  might  have 
exposed  it  to  the  foe,  but  Napoleon  knew  in  whom  he  confided.  Never  be- 
fore did  a  general  endeavor  to  rouse  his  soldiers  to  desperation  of  courage 
by  the  assurance  that  he  would  keep  himself  out  of  the  reach  of  all  danger ! 
Never  will  mortal  man  again  acquire  such  an  ascendency  as  to  undertake  to 
repeat  that  experiment.  Say  not  that  Napoleon  was  but  a  merciless,  am- 
bitious, bloodthirsty  conqueror.  Human  hearts  are  not  won  by  cruelty  and 
selfishness.  Napoleon  was  the  kind  friend  of  every  man  of  the  seventy  thou- 
sand who  rallied  beneath  his  eagles.  And  thus,  and  thus  only,  he  secured  the 
deathless  homage  of  all  these  hearts. 

The  night  was  cold  and  clear.  A  dense  fog,  however,  settled  upon  the 
lower  grounds,  enveloping  friend  and  foe  in  an  impenetrable  sea  of  obscurity. 
The  horizon  was  illumined  for  leagues  around  with  the  bivouac  fires  of  the 
antagonistic  hosts.  Gradually  the  unreplenished  piles  burned  out,  and  si- 
lence and  darkness  brooded  over  the  sleeping  armies.  At  four  o'clock  Na- 
poleon was  on  horseback.  A  confused  murmur,  piercing  the  dense  fog,  re- 
vealed to  his  experienced  ear  that  the  Russian  columns  were  in  full  march 
to  surprise  him,  by  the  attack  he  had  anticipated  upon  his  flank.  By  this 
movement  the  Allies  weakened  their  centre,  and  exposed  it  to  the  concen- 
trated attack  which  Napoleon  was  prepared  to  make.  The  bugles  sounded. 
The  French  soldiers  sprang  from  the  frozen  ground,  and,  as  by  magic,  form- 
ed themselves  in  battle  array.  Every  officer  knew  the  part  he  was  to  per- 
form. Every  soldier  was  impatient  for  the  conflict.  The  stars  still  shone 
brightly  in  the  wintry  sky,  and  not  a  ray  of  light  dawned  in  the  east. 

Gradually  the  stars  disappeared.  A  ruddy  glow  illumined  the  horizon, 
and  the  sun  rose  unclouded  and  brilliant,  gilding  the  hill-tops  and  penetrat- 
ing the  ocean  of  vapor  which  rolled  in  the  valleys.  It  was  the  "  Sun  of 
Austerlitz."  Its  gorgeous  rising  produced  a  deep  impression  upon  the  imag- 
ination of  Napoleon.  Often  in  after  years  he  apostrophized  the  sun  as  his 
guiding  star.  The  marshals  surrounding  the  Emperor  were  burning  with 
impatience  as  they  awaited  the  signal  of  attack. 

"How  long,"  said  Napoleon  to  Marshal  Soult,  "would  it  take  you,  from 
hence,  to  reach  the  heights  of  Prutzen  ?"  This  was  one  of  the  heights  in  the 
centre  of  the  allied  army  which  the  enemy  were  deserting  in  their  flank 
march. 

"  Less  than  twenty  minutes,"  replied  the  marshal.  "  My  troops  are  in  the 
bottom  of  the  valley,  covered  with  mist  and  with  the  smoke  of  their  bivou- 
acs. The  enemy  can  not  see  them." 

"In  that  case,"  said  Napoleon,  "let  us  wait  twenty  minutes.  When  the 
enemy  is  making  a  false  movement,  we  must  take  good  care  not  to  interrupt 
him." 

Soon  the  heavy  booming  of  artillery  announced  that  the  Russians  had 
commenced  a  furious  attack  upon  the  right.  "  Now,  then,"  said  Napoleon, 
"  is  the  moment."  The  marshals  instantly  galloped  in  all  directions  to  head 
their  respective  corps.  Napoleon,  plunging  his  spurs  into  his  steed,  galloped 
to  the  front  ranks  of  the  foremost  columns.  As  he  rode  along  the  line,  he 
exclaimed,  "Soldiers!  the  enemy  has  imprudently  exposed  himself  to  your 
blows.  We  shall  finish  this  war  with  a  clap  of  thunder." 


1805.] 


AUSTL'RLITZ. 


479 


THE    SUN    OF    AUSTEIIL1TZ. 


With  resistless  impetuosity,  the  solid  columns  of  the  French  pierced  the 
Weakened  centre  of  the  Allies.  The  conflict  was  desperate  arid  most  san- 
guinary. But  nothing  could  resist  the  headlong  valor  of  the  assailants.  The 
allied  army  was  pierced  and  cut  entirely  in  twain.  Horsemen  and  footmen 
were  trampled  beneath  the  tread  of  the  proud  victors.  The  field  was  filled 
with  a  rabble  of  fugitives  flying  in  wild  dismay,  as  the  cavalry  of  the  impe- 
rial guard  rode  over  them  and  sabred  them  mercilessly.  Napoleon,  leaving 
a  few  battalions  to  prevent  the  right  wing  from  coming  to  the  rescue  of  the 
left,  turned  with  nearly  his  whole  force  upon  the  left,  and  destroyed  it.  He 
then  directed  the  terrible  onset  upon  the  right  wing  of  the  Allies,  and  it  was 
no  more. 


480  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.  [CHAP.  XXXI. 

A  division  of  the  ruined  army,  consisting  of  many  thousand  men  and  horse, 
sought  to  escape  by  crossing,  with  artillery  and  cavalry,  a  frozen  lake  which 
adjoined  their  line  of  march.  The  surface  began  to  yield  beneath  the  enor- 
mous load,  when  a  few  balls  and  shells  from  the  French  batteries  broke  the 
ice,  and  the  whole  mass  was  plunged  into  the  freezing  waves.  A  fearful  cry, 
resounding  above  the  roar  of  battle,  ascended  from  the  lake,  as  the  frantic 
host  struggled  for  a  few  moments  in  the  agonies  of  death.  But  soon  the  icy 
waves  closed  silently  over  them  all,  and  those  unhappy  victims  were  sepul- 
chred forever.  From  a  neighboring  eminence  the  Emperors  of  Russia  and 
Austria  witnessed  the  entire  discomfiture  of  their  armies.  Accompanied  by 
a  few  followers,  in  the  deepest  dejection  they  joined  the  fugitives  and  the 
stragglers,  and  fled  from  the  field  of  disaster.  In  the  profound  darkness  of 
the  ensuing  night,  they  retreated  precipitately  and  almost  alone  over  the 
plains  of  Moravia. 

Thus  terminated  the  battle  of  Austerlitz.  It  was  the  most  brilliant  of  the 
victories  of  Napoleon.  The  whole  campaign  added  new  lustre  to  the  genius 
of  the  conqueror.  The  loss  of  the  Allies  was  immense.  Fifteen  thousand 
were  killed  or  wounded.  Twenty  thousand  were  taken  prisoners.  One 
hundred  and  eighty  pieces  of  cannon,  forty-five  standards,  and  an  immense 
quantity  of  baggage-wagons  remained  the  trophies  of  the  victors'  triumph. 
The  reserve  of  Napoleon  had  hardly  been  called  into  action  during  the  day. 
But  forty-five  thousand  of  the  French  troops  had  been  engaged,  and  they  had 
beaten  ninety  thousand  Russians  and  Austrians. 

No  language  can  describe  the  frightful  confusion  and  disorder  which  per- 
vaded the  ranks  of  the  retreating  foe.  The  genius  of  Napoleon  never  shone 
more  terribly  than  in  the  blows  which  he  dealt  upon  an  enemy  flying  before 
him.  The  barbarian  Russians,  wild  with  dismay,  filled  the  heavens  with 
their  phrensied  shouts,  and  wreaked  a  blind  and  merciless  vengeance  upon 
the  villages  scattered  along  their  route.  The  squadrons  of  Napoleon  pursued 
them  in  all  directions,  and  trampled  their  gory  bodies  into  the  earth.  The 
Emperor  Francis,  seeing  that  all  was  irretrievably  lost,  sent  Prince  John  to 
Napoleon  to  implore  an  armistice.  The  hours  of  the  bloody  day  had  passed, 
and  midnight  had  again  settled  over  the  gory  plain. 

The  prince  found  Napoleon  upon  the  field  of  battle,  carrying  succor  with 
his  own  hand  to  the  wounded,  and  speaking  to  their  grateful  hearts  words  of 
sympathy  and  encouragement.  He  would  allow  himself  no  rest  till  with  his 
own  eyes  he  had  seen  that  all  his  wounded  men  were  sheltered.  Many  a 
dying  soldier,  with  tearful  gaze,  in  his  last  agonies  looked  up  and  blessed 
his  Emperor.  Napoleon  administered  cordials  to  their  parched  lips,  and 
with  his  own  hands  stripped  the  cloaks  from  the  dead  to  cover  their  shiver- 
ing frames. 

Napoleon  received  the  prince  courteously.  He  assured  him  that  most 
earnestly  he  desired  peace,  and  that  it  would  afford  him  satisfaction  to  have 
an  interview  with  the  Emperor  of  Austria  on  the  following  day.  In  the 
mean  time,  he  issued  orders  to  pursue  the  retiring  foe  with  the  utmost  vigor. 
His  position  was  still  perilous  in  the  extreme.  Despotic  Europe  was  band- 
ed against  him.  Another  powerful  Russian  army  was  marching  down  from 
the  north.  Hungary  was  rising  en  masse.  Prince  Ferdinand  was  approach- 


1805.]  AUSTERLITZ.  481 

ing  Vienna  at  the  head  of  80,000  men.  Prussia,  with  her  200,000  troops, 
was  threatening  his  rear.  Napoleon  was  conscious  of  his  peril  and  con- 
scious of  his  power. 

The  next  morning  he  addressed  his  troops  in  the  following  proclamation  : 
"  Soldiers  !  I  am  satisfied  with  you.  In  the  battle  of  Austerlitz  you  have 
justified  all  that  I  expected  from  your  intrepidity.  You  have  decorated  your 
eagles  with  immortal  glory.  An  army  of  100,000  men,  commanded  by  the 
Emperors  of  Russia  and  of  Austria,  has  been,  in  less  than  four  hours,  either 
cut  in  pieces  or  dispersed.  Thus,  in  two  months,  the  third  coalition  has  been 
vanquished  and  dissolved.  Peace  can  not  now  b&  far  distant.  But  I  will 
make  only  such  a  peace  as  gives  us  guarantees  for  the  future,  and  secures 
rewards  to  our  allies.  When  every  thing  necessary  to  secure  the  happiness 
and  prosperity  of  our  country  is  obtained,  I  will  lead  you  back  to  France. 
My  people  will  again  behold  you  with  joy.  It  will  be  enough  for  one  of  you 
to  say,  '  I  was  at  the  battle  of  Austerlitz,'  for  all  your  fellow-citizens  to  ex- 
claim, '  There  is  a  brave  man  !' ' 

The  next  morning  the  Emperor  Francis,  accompanied  by  a  small  escort 
of  guards,  repaired,  in  a  carriage  drawn  by  six  horses,  to  the  place  appointed 
for  the  interview.  He  found  Napoleon  standing  before  the  fire  of  a  bivouac. 


NAPOLEON  AND  THE  EMPEROR  FRANCIS  I. 


A-  wind-mill  by  his  side  afforded  a  partial  shelter  from  the  wintry  gale  which 
swept  the  bleak  hills.  Napoleon,  with  great  courtesy,  greeted  the  Emperor 
of  Austria  as  he  alighted  from  his  carriage,  and  said  to  him, 

"  I  receive  you  in  the  only  palace  which  I  have  inhabited  for  the  last  two 
months." 

"  You  have  made  such  good  use,"  Francis  very  happily  replied,  "  of  that 
habitation,  that  it  should  be  agreeable  to  you." 


482  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.  [CHAP.  XXXI 

The  two  monarchs  conversed  together  for  two  hours,  and  agreed  verbally 
to  terms  of  accommodation.  Francis,  mortified  and  exasperated,  endeavored 
to  throw  the  blame  of  his  own  perfidy  upon  England. 

"  The  English,"  he  exclaimed,  "  are  a  nation  of  merchants.  In  order  to 
secure  for  themselves  the  commerce  of  the  world,  they  are  willing  to  set  the 
Continent  in  flames." 

Having  obtained  better  terms  for  himself  than  he  had  any  right  to  ex- 
pect, the  Austrian  monarch  next  interceded  for  his  ally  Alexander.  "  The 
Russian  army,"  replied  Napoleon,  "is  surrounded.  Not  a  man  can  es- 
cape me.  If,  however,  your  majesty  will  promise  that  Alexander  shall  at 
once  return  to  Russia,  I  will  stop  the  advance  of  my  columns."  Francis 
pledged  his  honor  that  the  Russian  emperor  should  immediately  withdraw 
his  forces. 

When  the  Emperor  Francis  had  withdrawn,  Napoleon  walked  for  a  mo- 
ment to  and  fro  before  the  fire,  with  his  hands  clasped  behind  his  back. 
After  a  short  silence,  during  which  he  appeared  absorbed  in  thought,  he  was 
overheard  to  say,  "  I  have  acted  very  unwisely.  I  could  have  followed  up 
my  victory,  and  have  taken  the  whole  of  the  Austrian  and  Russian  armies. 
They  are  both  entirely  in  my  power.  But — let  it  be.  It  will  at  least  cause 
some  less  tears  to  be  shed." 

Napoleon  immediately  dispatched  General  Savary  to  the  head-quarters  of 
Alexander,  to  inquire  if  he  would  ratify  the  armistice. 

"  I  am  happy  to  see  you,"  said  the  Emperor  to  the  envoy.  "  The  occa- 
sion has  been  very  glorious  for  your  arms.  That  day  will  take  nothing  from 
the  reputation  which  your  master  has  earned  in  so  many  battles.  It  was  my 
first  engagement.  I  confess  that  the  rapidity  of  his  maneuvers  never  gave 
me  time  to  succor  the  menaced  points.  Every  where  you  were  at  least 
double  the  number  of  our  forces." 

"  Sire,"  Savary  replied,  "  our  force  was  twenty-five  thousand  less  than 
yours.  And  even  of  that,  the  whole  was  not  very  warmly  engaged.  But 
we  maneuvered  much,  and  the  same  division  combated  at  many  different 
points.  Therein  lies  the  art  of  war.  The  Emperor,  who  has  seen  forty 
pitched  battles,  is  never  wanting  in  that  particular.  He  is  still  ready  to 
march  against  the  Archduke  Charles,  if  your  majesty  does  not  accept  the 
armistice." 

"  What  guarantee  does  your  master  require  ?"  replied  Alexander  ;  "  and 
what  security  can  I  have  that  your  troops  will  not  prosecute  their  movements 
against  me  ?" 

"  He  asks  only  your  word  of  honor,"  Savary  replied.  "  He  has  instruct- 
ed me,  the  moment  it  is  given,  to  suspend  the  pursuit." 

"  I  give  it  with  pleasure,"  rejoined  the  Emperor.  "And  should  it  ever  be 
your  fortune  to  visit  St.  Petersburg,  I  hope  that  I  may  be  able  to  render  my 
capital  agreeable  to  you." 

Hostilities  immediately  ceased.  The  fragments  of  the  two  defeated  ar- 
mies retired  without  further  molestation  to  their  homes. 

As  Napoleon  was  returning  to  Vienna,  he  met  a  large  convoy  of  wounded 
Austrians  on  their  route  for  the  hospitals  of  the  capital.  He  immediately 
alighted  from  his  carriage,  and,  uncovering  his  head,  exclaimed,  "  Honor  to 


1805.J  AUSTERLITZ.  483 

the  brave  in  misfortune  !"  His  suite  followed  his  example.  The  Emperor 
stood  in  pensive  silence,  with  his  hat  in  his  hand,  as  the  melancholy  proces- 
sion of  the  wounded  and  the  dying  passed  along.  The  human  heart  is  ever 
responsive  to  such  appeals.  These  men  had  lavished  their  blood  contending 
against  Napoleon.  But  this  development  of  sympathy  in  one  moment  dis- 
armed all  enmity,  and  irresistibly  won  their  love  and  admiration. 

France  had  been  perfidiously  assailed  by  the  allied  powers.  In  repelling 
the  assault,  millions  of  money  had  been  expended,  all  the  arts  of  peace  had 
been  interrupted,  and  seven  thousand  Frenchmen  had  sacrificed  their  lives. 
Napoleon  wisely  resolved  so  to  strengthen  his  position  as  no  longer,  by  weak- 
ness, to  invite  such  attacks.  With  characteristic  magnanimity,  he  added  not 
one  foot  to  the  territory  of  France.  He  compelled  Austria  to  pay  the  ex- 
penses of  the  war.  He  raised  the  Electors  of  Bavaria  and  Wurtemberg  to 
the  dignity  of  kings,  adding  to  the  one  power  1,000,000  inhabitants,  and  to 
the  other  183,000.  The  little  state  of  Baden  also  gained  113,000  subjects. 
Thus  he  rewarded  his  friends,  and  strengthened  the  barriers  placed  between 
France  and  the  three  great  despots  of  Europe — Russia,  Prussia,  and  Austria. 
To  remove  Austria  farther  from  his  eastern  frontier,  he  annexed  the  state  of 
Venice  to  the  Italian  kingdom,  and  gave  Austria  in  exchange  the  electorate 
of  Salsburg.  These  changes  were  all  important  to  protect  France  from  fu- 
ture assaults.  Napoleon  would  have  been  singularly  wanting  in  political 
foresight  had  he  exacted  less.  He  could  not  have  been  accused  of  injustice 
had  he  demanded  more.  He  wished  to  interpose  a  barrier  of  subordinate 
kingdoms,  friendly  to  France,  between  his  empire  and  the  dominions  of  his 
powerful  and  unrelenting  foes.  Every  dictate  of  humanity  and  of  policy  de- 
manded that  he  should  thus  shelter  France  from  the  assaults  of  conquered 
but  still  hostile  nations. 

Immediately  upon  the  signing  of  the  articles  of  peace,  Napoleon  made  the 
following  communication  to  his  soldiers  :  "  Peace  has  just  been  signed  with 
the  Emperor  of  Austria.  You  have,  in  the  last  autumn,  made  two  cam- 
paigns. You  have  seen  your  Emperor  share  your  dangers  and  your  fatigues. 
I  wish  also  that  you  should  see  him  surrounded  with  the  grandeur  and  splen- 
dor which  belong  to  the  sovereign  of  the  first  people  in  the  world.  You  shall 
all  be  there.  We  will  celebrate  the  names  of  those  who  have  died  in  these 
two  campaigns  on  the  field  of  honor.  The  world  shall  ever  see  us  ready  to 
follow  their  example.  We  will  even  do  more  than  we  yet  have  done,  if 
necessary  to  vindicate  our  national  honor,  or  to  resist  the  efforts  of  those 
who  are  the  eternal  enemies  of  peace  upon  the  Continent.  During  the  three 
months  which  are  necessary  to  effect  your  return  to  France,  prove  the  exam- 
ple for  all  armies.  You  have  now  to  give  testimonies,  not  of  courage  and 
intrepidity,  but  of  strict  discipline.  Conduct  yourselves  like  children  in  the 
bosom  of  their  family." 

Napoleon  now  gave  directions  to  the  army  to  retrace  their  steps  to  France, 
by  slow  and  easy  marches.  He  himself  proceeded  to  Paris  with  the  utmost 
rapidity,  allowing  himself  no  time  to  enjoy  the  triumphs  which  were  prepared 
to  greet  him  by  the  way.  The  public  authorities  of  Paris  had  made  ar- 
rangements for  a  magnificent  reception  on  his  arrival.  He,  however,  disap- 
pointed them  by  entering  Paris  at  night,  unattended  by  any  escort.  The 


484  NAPOLEON   BONAPARTE.  [CHAP.  XXXI. 

next  day  the  mayor  and  other  public  functionaries  called  upon  him,  and  in 
their  congratulatory  address  expressed  regret  that  he  had  not  given  them 
opportunity  to  testify  their  gratitude  by  a  public  triumph  for  the  services  he 
had  rendered  his  country. 

'Napoleon  returned  the  following  memorable  reply :  "  Had  I  been  defeated, 
I  would  have  made  a  public  entry.  Our  enemies  would  then  have  been  con- 
vinced, from  the  manner  of  my  reception  by  the  good  citizens  of  Paris,  that 
the  attachment  which  they  have  always  shown  me  was  not  confined  to  my 
fortune.  Though  vanquished,  they  would  still  consider  their  cause  and  mine 
inseparably  united.  Returning  a  victor,  I  would  not  hazard  their  being  ac- 
cused of  servile  adulation." 

This  formidable  confederacy,  which  Napoleon  had  shattered  at  a  blow,  was 
organized  by  William  Pitt.  Its  utter  overthrow  was  fatal  also  to  the  am- 
bitious spirit  which  formed  it.  When  the  news  reached  him  of  the  total  de- 
struction of  the  allied  army  at  Austerlitz,  he  gazed  long  and  sadly  upon  the 
map  of  Europe,  and  turned  away,  saying,  "  Henceforth  we  may  close  that 
map  for  half  a  century."  His  health  now  hourly  declined.  On  the  23d  of 
January,  1806,  at  the  age  of  forty-seven,  he  expired,  exclaiming  with  his  last 
breath,  "Alas,  my  country !"  No  sooner  did  the  French  Revolution  break 
out,  than  William  Pitt,  to  use  the  words  of  Alison,  "  became  the  soul  of  all 
the  confederacies  which  were  framed  to  oppose  a  barrier  to  the  diffusion  of 
its  principles.  The  steady  friend  of  freedom,  he  was,  on  that  very  account, 
the  resolute  opponent  of  democracy.  It  was  not  against  France,  but  Repub- 
lican France,  that  his  hostility  was  directed." 

Several  medals  were  executed  to  commemorate  the  battle  of  Austerlitz. 
One  morning  M.  Denon  came  to  Napoleon  at  St.  Cloud  with  several  medals 
upon  this  subject.  One  represented  on  one  side  a  head  of  Napoleon,  and 
upon  the  other  an  eagle  holding  fast  a  leopard. 

"  What  does  this  mean  ?"  inquired  the  Emperor. 

"  Sire,"  replied  M.  Denon,  "  it  is  a  French  eagle  strangling  in  its  talons  the 
leopard,  one  of  the  emblems  of  the  coat  of  arms  of  England." 

Napoleon  contemptuously  threw  down  the  coin,  saying,  "  How  dare  you 
tell  me  that  the  French  eagle  strangles  the  English  leopard  !  I  can  not  send 
out  to  sea  the  smallest  fishing-boat  that  the  English  do  not  seize  upon.  It  is, 
in  truth,  the  leopard  that  strangles  the  French  eagle.  Let  this  medal  be  in- 
stantly destroyed,  and  never  present  any  of  the  same  kind  to  me  again." 

The  generosity  of  Napoleon  toward  his  army  was  as  magnificent  as  was 
his  victory.  He  immediately  adopted  all  the  children  of  those  who  had 
fallen.  They  were  supported  and  educated  at  the  expense  of  the  state. 
They  all,  as  the  children  of  the  Emperor,  were  permitted  to  attach  the  name 
of  Napoleon  to  their  own.  To  the  widows  of  the  generals  he  gave  a  pension 
of  $1200  dollars  a  year.  The  widows  of  the  colonels  and  the  majors  re- 
ceived $500  annually;  those  of  captains,  $250;  those  of  lieutenants,  $150; 
while  the  widows  of  all  the  soldiers  received  a  pension  of  $40.  The  wound- 
ed were  also  all  liberally  rewarded. 

Napoleon  was  in  the  habit,  during  his  campaigns,  of  writing  almost  daily 
to  Josephine.  These  letters  were  often  written  upon  a  drum-head  at  his 
night's  bivouac,  or  upon  the  pommel  of  his  saddle  when  the  balls  of  the  en" 


1805.]  AUSTERLITZ.  485 

emy  were  falling  around  him.  These  tokens  of  his  love  for  Josephine  were 
very  brief  and  so  hastily  written,  that  it  required  all  Josephine's  ingenuity  to 
decipher  them.  The  following  are  from  the  letters  which  he  thus  wrote 
during  this  campaign.  They  give  us  an  insight  to  the  heart  of  Napoleon. 
These  attentions,  so  delicate  and  so  touching,  prove  that  the  majesty  of 
genius  had  not  overshadowed  in  his  character  the  graces  of  affection 

"2d  October,  1805,  10  o'clock  A.M. 

"  I  am  still  in  good  health.  I  start  for  Stuttgard,  where  I  shall  be  to- 
night.  The  great  maneuvers  commence.  The  armies  of  Wiirtemberg  and 
of  Baden  have  united  with  mine.  I  am  in  a  good  position,  and  I  love  you. 

"  NAPOLEON." 

"  12th  October,  11  o'clock  at  night. 

"  My  army  has  entered  Munich.  The  enemy  is  beaten.  Every  thing  an- 
nounces the  most  short,  successful,  and  brilliant  campaign  I  have  yet  made. 
I  am  very  well.  The  weather  is,  however,  frightful.  I  change  my  clothes 
twice  a  day,  it  rains  so  incessantly.  I  love  you,  and  embrace  you. 

"  NAPOLEON." 

«  19th  October. 

"  I  have  been,  my  good  Josephine,  much  fatigued.  During  all  the  days 
of  an  entire  week  I  have  been  drenched  with  rain,  and  my  feet  have  been 
nearly  frozen.  This  has  made  me  a  little  ill.  To-day  I  have  obtained  some 
repose.  I  have  fulfilled  my  design.  I  have  destroyed  the  Austrian  army  by 
simple  marches.  I  have  taken  60,000  prisoners,  120  pieces  of  cannon,  90 
flags,  and  more  than  30  generals.  I  now  go  in  pursuit  of  the  Russians. 
They  are  undone.  I  am  content  with  my  army.  I  have  lost  but  1500  men, 
and  of  these  two  thirds  are  but  slightly  wounded.  Adieu,  my  Josephine.  A 
thousand  loving  words  to  you." 

"  3d  November,  10  o'clock  at  night. 

"  I  am  in  full  march.  The  weather  is  very  cold.  The  earth  is  covered 
with  a  foot  of  snow.  This  is  a  little  severe.  Happily,  our  march  is  through 
forests.  I  am  pretty  well.  My  affairs  move  very  satisfactorily.  My  ene- 
mies ought  to  be  more  anxious  than  I.  I  desire  very  much  to  hear  from 
you,  and  to  learn  that  you  are  free  from  inquietude.  Adieu,  my  love.  I 
must  sleep." 

"  15th  November,  9  o'clock  at  night. 

"  I  left  Vienna  two  days  ago,  my  love,  a  little  fatigued.     I  have  not  yet 
seen  the  city  by  day.     I  passed  through  it  in  the  night.     Almost  all  my 
troops  are  beyond  the  Danube  pursuing  the  Russians.     Adieu,  my  Josephine. 
The  very  moment  it  is  possible,  I  shall  send  for  you  to  come  to  me.     A  thou 
sand  loving  words  for  you,  NAPOLEON." 

"  16th  November. 
"  I  have  written  for  you  to  come  immediately  to  Baden,  and  thence  to 


486  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.  [CHAP.  XXXI. 

Munich,  by  the  way  of  Stuttgard.  Bring  with  you  the  means  of  making 
presents  to  the  ladies  and  to  the  functionaries  who  may  serve  you.  Be  un- 
assuming, but  receive  all  homage.  Every  thing  is  due  to  you.  You  owe 
nothing  but  courtesy.  The  Electress  of  Wiirtemberg  is  daughter  of  the 
King  of  England.  She  is  a  lovely  woman.  Treat  her  with  kindness,  but 
without  affectation.  I  shall  be  most  happy  to  see  you  the  moment  my  af- 
fairs will  allow  me  to  do  so.  I  set  out  immediately  for  my  advance  guard. 
The  weather  is  frightful.  It  snows  continually.  As  to  the  rest,  my  affairs 
are  prosperous.  Adieu,  my  love.  NAPOLEON." 

"  3d  December,  1805. 

"  I  send  Lebrun  to  you  from  the  field  of  battle.  I  have  beaten  the  Rus- 
sian and  Austrian  armies  commanded  by  the  two  emperors.  I  am  a  little 
fatigued.  I  have  bivouacked  eight  days  in  the  open  air,  through  nights  se- 
verely cold.  I  shall  pass  to-night  in  the  chateau  of  Prince  Kaunitz,  where 
I  go  to  sleep  for  two  or  three  hours.  The  Russian  army  is  not  only  beaten, 
but  destroyed.  I  embrace  you.  NAPOLEON." 

"  December  5. 

"  I  have  concluded  a  truce.  The  Russians  have  implored  it.  The  vic- 
tory of  Austerlitz  is  the  most  illustrious  of  all  which  I  have  gained.  We 
have  taken  45  flags,  150  pieces  of  cannon,  and  20  generals.  More  than 
20,000  are  slain.  It  is  an  awful  spectacle.  The  Emperor  Alexander  is  in 
despair.  I  saw  yesterday,  at  my  bivouac,  the  Emperor  of  Germany.  We 
conversed  for  two  hours,  and  agreed  upon  an  immediate  peace.  The  weather 
is  dreadful.  Repose  is  again  restored  to  the  Continent.  Let  us  hope  that  it 
will  extend  throughout  the  world.  The  English  will  not  be  able  to  make 
headway  against  us.  I  look  forward,  with  great  pleasure,  to  the  moment 
when  I  shall  again  see  you.  Adieu,  my  love.  I  am  pretty  well,  and  '« "~ 
very  desirous  to  embrace  you." 

"  10th  December,  1805. 

"  It  is  long  since  I  have  heard  any  news  from  you.  The  brilliant  fetes  of 
Baden,  Stuttgard,  and  Munich  cause  the  poor  soldiers,  drenched  with  rain, 
and  covered  with  blood  and  mire,  to  be  forgotten.  I  set  out  immediately  for 
Vienna.  The  Russians  are  gone.  They  return  to  their  own  country  thor- 
oughly beaten  and  thoroughly  humiliated.  I  desire  intensely  to  return  *o 
you.  Adieu,  my  love.  NAPOLEON.' 

The  following  letter  conceals  beneath  the  semblance  of  mirthfulness  a 
spirit  wounded  by  apparent  neglect. 

"  19th  December. 

"August  Empress  !  Not  one  letter  from  you  since  your  departure  from 
Strasburg.  You  have  entered  Baden,  Stuttgard,  and  Munich  without  writ- 
ing us  one  word.  That  is  not  very  amiable  nor  very  tender.  I  am  still  at 
Brunn.  The  Russians  have  gone.  I  have  a  truce.  Condescend,  from  the 
summit  of  your  grandeur,  to  occupy  yourself  a  little  with  your  slaves. 

"  NAPOLEON." 


1806.]  ANNEXATIONS  AND  ALLIANCES.  487 


CHAPTER  XXXII. 

ANNEXATIONS   AND   ALLIANCES. 

The  Emperor  on  his  Return  from  Austerlitz — Letter  to  the  Minister  of  Finance — Napoleon's  La- 
bors for  the  Improvement  of  France — Religious  Character  and  Thoughts  of  the  Emperor — Depu- 
tation from  Genoa — Its  Annexation  to  France — Conduct  of  Naples — Insolence  of  the  European 
Kings — Proclamation — Dilemma — Holland — Cisalpine  Republic — The  Government  of  Eugene — 
Piedmont — Ambition  of  Napoleon — Necessity  o.f  Allies  for  France — Consciousness  of  the  Em- 
peror of  the  Uncertainty  of  his  Position — Confederation  of  the  Rhine — Attack  on  Spanish  ships 
— Battle  of  Trafalgar — Fox — Difficulty  of  making  Peace  with  England — Death  of  Fox. 

IT  was  nearly  midnight  when  Napoleon,  accompanied  by  Josephine,  en- 
tered the  darkened  streets  of  Paris  on  his  return  from  Yienna.  He  drove 
directly  to  the  Tuileries,  and  ascended  the  stairs,  with  hasty  strides,  to  his 
cabinet.  Without  undressing,  or  even  throwing  himself  upon  a  couch  for  a 
moment  of  repose,  he  sent  for  the  Minister  of  Finance.  The  whole  of  the 
remainder  of  the  night  was  passed  in  a  rigid  examination  of  the  state  of  the 
Bank  of  France.  The  eagle  eye  of  the  Emperor  immediately  penetrated 
the  labyrinth  of  confusion  in  which  its  concerns  were  involved.  Writing 
from  the  camp  of  Boulogne,  in  the  midst  of  all  the  distractions  of  the  prep- 
arations for  the  march  to  Ulm  and  Austerlitz,  Napoleon  had  thus  addressed 
his  Minister  of  Finance  : 

"  The  paper  of  the  bank  is  issued  in  many,  perhaps  a  majority  of  the  cases, 
not  on  real  capital,  but  on  a  delusive  supposition  of  wealth.  In  one  word,  in 
discounting  after  this  manner,  the  bank  is  coining  false  money.  So  clearly 
do  I  see  the  dangers  of  such  a  course,  that,  if  necessary,  I  would  stop  the 
pay  of  my  soldiers  rather  than  persevere  in  it.  lam  distressed  beyond  meas- 
ure at  the  necessities  of  mty  situation,  which,  by  compelling  me  to  live  in 
camps,  and  engaged  in  distant  expeditions,  withdraw  my  attention  from  what 
would  otherwise  be  the  chief  object  of  my  anxiety,  and  the  first  wish  of  my 
heart — a  good  and  solid  organization  of  all  which  concerns  the  interest  of 
banks,  manufactures,  and  commerce" 

The  next  day,  at  eleven  o'clock,  the  whole  Council  of  Finance  was  assem- 
bled. Napoleon  kept  them  incessantly  occupied  during  an  uninterrupted 
session  of  nine  hours.  Thus  energetically,  without  allowing  himself  a  mo- 
ment for  repose,  he  entered  upon  a  series  of  labors  unparalleled  in  the  his- 
tory of  mankind.  The  mind  of  this  extraordinary  man  was  all  interested  in 
constructing,  not  in  destroying.  He  loved  not  the  carnage  of  the  battle- 
field. He  loved  not  the  aspect  of  burning  cities,  or  the  desolating  sweep  of 
contending  armies.  It  was  far  more  in  accordance  with  his  humane  dispo- 
sition, and  his  intellectual  and  refined  taste,  to  labor  in  his  cabinet  in  rear- 
ing works  of  imperishable  grandeur,  than,  hungry,  cold,  and  weary,  drenched 
with  rain,  spattered  with  mud,  toiling  through  the  mire,  and  bivouacking  upon 
the  drifting  snow,  to  lead  his  armies  to  mutilation,  blood,  and  death.  Na- 


488  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.  [CHAP.  XX^II. 

poleon  was  a  man.  The  groans  of  the  dying  were  not  music  to  his  ear.  As 
he  went,  invariably,  the  messenger  of  mercy  over  the  field  of  strife,  when 
the  conflict  was  over,  the  aspect  of  the  mangled,  the  dying,  and  the  dead 
was  not  a  pleasing  spectacle  to  his  eyes.  His  foes  compelled  him,  during 
all  his  reign,  to  devote  one  half  of  his  energies  to  repel  their  assaults. 

Napoleon  had  again  conquered  peace  with  all  the  world,  England  alone 
excepted.  The  government  of  England,  notwithstanding  the  firm  opposition 
of  a  large  portion  of  the  people,  still  waged  unrelenting  war  against  the  Re- 
publican Empire.  England  was  too  intelligent  to  be  deceived  by  words. 
It  mattered  not  whether  Napoleon  were  called  Consul  or  Emperor.  The 
principles  of  his  government  were  still  the  same.  He  was  the  man  of  the 
people.  It  was  his  mission  to  abase  aristocratic  usurpation,  and  to  elevate 
the  people  to  equality  of  privileges  and  of  rights. 

Napoleon  immediately  made  arrangements  for  the  army  to  return  by  slow 
and  comfortable  marches  of  twelve  miles  a  day.  He  ordered  the  sick  and 
the  wounded  to  be  amply  provided  for  during  the  winter,  that  they  might  be 
brought  back  to  France  under  the  genial  sun  of  spring.  Officers  were  com- 
manded to  remain  with  them,  to  see  that  all  their  wants  were  fully  supplied. 
Never  before  or  since  has  there  been  a  general  so  attentive  to  his  sick  and 
wounded  soldiers.  To  this  testimony  there  is  not  a  dissentient  voice. 

In  the  midst  of  negotiations  and  military  cares  more  vast  and  varied  than 
ever  before  occupied  the  mind  of  man,  Napoleon  devoted  himself,  with  a 
fondness  amounting  to  a  passion,  to  the  creation  of  magnificent  works  of  art 
and  of  public  utility.  In  those  snatches  of  leisure  left  him  by  his  banded 
foes,  he  visited  all  parts  of  the  capital  and  of  his  empire.  Wherever  he  went, 
some  grand  idea  for  moral,  intellectual,  or  physical  improvement  suggested 
itself  to  his  mind.  The  foot-prints  of  the  Emperor  still  remain  all  over  Par- 
is, and  in  the  remotest  provinces  of  France,  enduring  memorials  of  his  phi- 
lanthropy, his  comprehensive  wisdom,  and  his  tireless  energy.  He  founcj 
St.  Denis,  the  mausoleum  of  the  ancient  kings  of  France,  in  deplorable  di- 
lapidation. The  venerable  edifice  was  immediately  and  magnificently  re- 
paired. The  beautiful  church  of  St.  Genevieve  was  crumbling  to  decay. 
He  restored  it  to  more  than  its  pristine  splendor. 

He  reared  the  magnificent  monument  in  the  Place  Vendome.  The  noble 
obelisk  of  bronze,  winding  round  whose  shaft  are  displayed,  in  long  basso- 
relievo,  the  exploits  of  the  campaigns  of  Ulm  and  Austerlitz,  excites  the  ad- 
miration of  every  beholder.  The  monument  was  consecrated  to  the  Grand 
Army,  and  was  constructed  of  the  cannon  taken  from  the- enemy.  Napoleon 
had  ever  been  contending  for  peace.  In  these  eventful  campaigns  he  had 
secured  peace  for  the  Continent.  He  wished  to  have  the  statue  of  Peace  sur- 
mount the  lofty  summit  of  the  pillar.  But  the  nation  gratefully  decreed  that 
Napoleon,  the  hero-pacificator,  in  imperial  costume,  should  crown  the  trophy 
of  his  own  genius.  When  the  Allies,  after  desolating  Europe  for  a  quar- 
ter of  a  century  with  blood,  succeeded  in  driving  Napoleon  from  his  throne, 
and  reinstating  the  Bourbons,  they  hurled  the  statue  of  the  Republican  Em- 
peror from  its  proud  elevation.  They  could  not,  however,  tear  the  image  of 
Napoleon  from  the  heart  of  an  adoring  people.  The  Bourbons  were  again 
driven  into  exile,  and  the  statue  of  Napoleon  replaced.  No  sacrilegious 


1806.] 


ANNEXATIONS  AND  ALLIANCES. 


489 


MONUMENT  IN  THE  PLACE  VENDOME. 

hand  will  ever  venture  again  rudely  to  touch  that  memorial  of  a  nation's  love 
and  homage. 

He  formed  the  plan,  and  commenced  the  work  of  uniting  the  Louvre  and 
the  Tuileries  in  the  most  splendid  palace  the  world  has  ever  seen.  And  this 
palace  was  to  be  consecrated,  not  to  the  licentious  indulgence  of  kings  and 
nobles,  but  to  the  fine  arts,  for  the  benefit  of  the  people.  The  magnificent 
"Arch  of  Triumph"  in  the  Carrousel,  and  the  still  more  magnificent  arch  fac- 
ing the  Elysian  Fields,  were  both  commenced  this  year.  Fifteen  new  fount- 
ains were  erected  in  the  city.  More  extensive  engines  were  created  to  raise 
water  from  the  Seine,  that  eighty  fountains  might  play  unceasingly  night 
and  day.  Magnificent  quays  were  erected  along  the  banks  of  the  river.  A 
bridge  in  process  of  building  was  rapidly  completed,  and  named  the  Bridge 
of  Austerlitz.  A  new  bridge,  subsequently  called  the  Bridge  of  Jena,  was 
commenced.  These  were  but  a  part  of  the  works  entered  upon  in  the  capi- 
tal. The  most  distant  departments  of  the  empire  shared  his  attention  and 
his  munificence.  Immense  canals  were  constructed,  conferring  the  benefits 
of  water  communication  upon  all  parts  of  France.  National  roads,  upon 
which  the  tourist  now  gazes  with  astonishment,  were  commenced.  Others, 
already  laid  out,  were  urged  to  their  rapid  completion.  The  world-renown- 


490  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.  [CHAP.  XXXII 

ed  Pass  of  the  Simplon,  the  road  through  the  valley  of  the  Moselle,  the  high- 
way from  Roanne  to  Lyons,  the  celebrated  road  from  Nice  to  Genoa,  the 
roads  over  Mount  Cenis  and  Mount  Genevre,  and  along  the  banks  of  the 
Rhine,  and  the  astonishing  works  at  Antwerp,  will  forever  remain  a  memo- 
rial of  Bonaparte's  insatiable  desire  to  enrich  and  ennoble  the  country  of 
which  he  was  the  monarch. 

These  were  the  works  in  which  he  delighted ;  this  was  the  fame  he  wished 
to  rear  for  himself ;  this  was  the  immortality  he  coveted.  His  renown  is 
immortal.  He  has  left  upon  the  Continent  an  imprint  of  beneficence  which 
time  can  never  efface.  But  Europe  was  in  arms  against  him.  To  protect 
his  empire  from  hostile  invasion  while  carrying  on  these  great  works,  he  was 
compelled  continually  to  support  four  hundred  thousand  men  in  battle  array. 

Napoleon  was  always  a  serious  man,  religiously  inclined.  In  his  youth- 
ful years  he  kept  himself  entirely  aloof  not  only  from  the  dissipations,  but 
from  the  merriment  of  the  camp.  In  his  maturer  life  the  soldiers  gave  him 
the  name  of  "  Father  Thoughtful."  Though  not  established  in  the  belief 
that  Christianity  was  of  divine  origin,  he  ever  cherished  a  profound  rever- 
ence for  the  religion  of  the  Bible.  Amid  the  sneers  of  infidel  Europe,  he 
with  unvarying  constancy  affirmed  that  religion  was  essential  to  the  welL 
being  of  society,  not  merely  as  a  police  regulation,  but  as  a  necessity  of  the 
human  soul.  When  but  twenty-four  years  of  age,  he  encouraged  his  brother 
Louis,  who  was  then  a  lad  but  about  fifteen  years  old,  but  conscientious  and 
devout,  to  partake  of  the  sacrament  of  the  Lord's  Supper.  Says  Louis,  "  I 
was  then  but  a  child.  It  was  in  consequence  of  his  advice  and  care  that  I 
partook  of  my  first  communion.  He  selected  a  worthy  ecclesiastic  to  give 
me  the  necessary  instructions  and  preparations."  When  the  schedule  of 
study  for  Madame  Campan's  female  school  was  presented  him,  he  found  as 
one  regulation,  "The  young  ladies  shall  attend  prayers  twice  a  week"  He 
immediately  erased  with  his  pen  the  words  "twice  a  week,"  and  substituted 
"  every  day? 

"  Sire  !"  said  General  Bertrand  to  Napoleon  one  day,  "  you  believe  in  God. 
I  also  believe.  But,  after  all,  what  is  God  ?  What  do  we  know  of  him  ? 
Have  we  seen  him  ?" 

Napoleon  replied,  "  What  is  God?  Do  I  know  what  I  believe?  Very 
well !  I  will  tell  you.  Answer  me  :  How  know  you  that  a  man  has  genius  ? 
Is  it  any  thing  you  have  seen  ?  Is  it  visible — genius  ?  What  then  can  you 
believe  of  it  ?  We  see  the  effect ;  from  the  effect  we  pass  to  the  cause.  We 
find  it ;  we  affirm  it ;  we  believe  it.  Is  it  not  so  ?  Thus,  upon  the  field  of 
battle,  when  the  action  commences,  though  we  do  not  understand  the  plan  of 
attack,  we  admire  the  promptitude,  the  efficiency  of  the  maneuvers,  and  ex- 
claim, '  A  man  of  genius  /'  When  in  the  heat  of  the  battle  victory  wavers, 
why  do  you  the  first  turn  your  eyes  toward  me  ?  Yes  !  your  lips  call  me. 
From  all  parts  we  hear  but  one  cry,  '  The  Emperor,  where  is  he  ?  his  orders  /' 
What  means  that  cry  ?  It  is  the  cry  of  instinct,  of  general  faith  in  me — in 
my  genius. 

"Very  well!  I  also  have  an  instinct,  a  knowledge,  a  faith,  a  cry  which 
involuntarily  escapes  me.  I  reflect.  I  regard  nature  with  her  phenomena, 
and  I  exclaim  God!  I  admire  and  cry,  There  is  a  God! 


1806.J  ANNEXATIONS  AND  ALLIANCES.  491 

"  Since  you  believe  in  genius,  tell  me,  tell  me,  I  pray  you,  what  gives  to 
the  man  of  genius  this  invention,  this  inspiration,  this  glance  of  the  eye  pe- 
culiar to  man  alone  ?  Answer  me  !  from  whence  does  it  come  ?  You  can 
not  tell !  Is  it  not  so  ?  Neither  can  I  nor  any  one  else.  And  still,  this  pe- 
culiarity which  characterizes  certain  individuals  is  a  fact  as  evident,  as  posi- 
tive as  any  other  fact.  But  if  there  is  such  a  difference  in  mind,  there  is 
evidently  a  cause  ;  there  is  some  one  who  has  made  that  difference.  It  is 
neither  you  nor  me,  and  genius  is  but  a  word  which  teaches  nothing  of  its 
cause.  That  any  person  should  say,  They  are  the  organs!  Behold  a  sil- 
liness fit  for  a  medical  student,  but  not  for  me.  Do  you  understand?"* 

Napoleon  saw  so  many  imperfections  in  the  Catholic  priesthood,  that  he 
was  unwilling  to  intrust  the  education  of  youth  to  ecclesiastics.  Their  de- 
votion to  the  past,  their  hostility  to  all  innovation  and  progress,  incapacitated 
them  in  his  judgment  to  rouse  and  guide  the  youthful  mind.  He  devoted,  at 
this  time,  very  special  attention  to  the  education  of  the  masses  of  the  people. 
He  established  a  university  to  raise  up  a  corps  of  teachers  of  high  qualifica- 
tions, who  should  hold  distinguished  rank  in  the  state,  and  who  should  re- 
ceive ample  emolument.  In  all  the  schools  religion  was  to  be  taught  by 
chaplains. 

Such  wefe  the  labors  of  Napoleon  in  Paris  from  January  to  July,  1806. 
At  the  same  time  he  wras  compelled  to  defend  himself  from  England,  who 
was  incessantly  assailing  France  with  all  the  power  of  her  invincible  fleet. 
He  was  also  conducting  the  most  momentous  negotiations  with  the  various 
nations  of  Europe. 

The  province  of  Genoa  occupied  the  southern  slope  of  the  Apennines.! 
It  was  about  as  large  as  Rhode  Island,  and  contained  500,000  inhabitants. 
Its  population  was  thoroughly  imbued  with  the  principles  of  Republican 
France.  In  the  wars  then  desolating  Europe,  this  Liliputian  state  was  of 
course  powerless,  unless  sustained  by  some  stronger  arm.  Its  immediate 
contiguity  to  France  encouraged  the  desire  for  annexation.  A  deputation 
from  the  Senate  of  Genoa  visited  Napoleon  soliciting  this  favor. 

"  In  regenerating  the  people  of  this  country,"  said  the  deputation,  "  your 
majesty  has  contracted  the  obligation  to  render  it  happy.  But  this  can  not 
be  done  unless  it  is  governed  by  your  majesty's  wisdom  and  valor.  The 
changes  which  have  taken  place  around  us  have  rendered  our  insulated  situ- 
ation a  source  of  perpetual  disquietude,  and  imperiously  call  for  a  union  with 
that  France  which  you  have  covered  with  imperishable  renown.  Such  is 
the  wish  which'  we  are  charged  to  lay  at  your  majesty's  feet.  The  reasons 
on  which  it  is  founded  prove  sufficiently  that  it  is  not  the  result  of  any  ex- 
ternal suggestion,  but  the  inevitable  consequence  of  our  actual  situation." 

When  Napoleon  entered  Genoa  in  consummation  of  this  union,  he  was  re- 

*  Napoleon  was  exceedingly  displeased  with  the  impiety  of  Dr  Antommarchi,  a  physician  who 
was  sent  to  him  while  at  St.  Helena.  "  You  physicians,"  said  Napoleon  to  him  one  day,  "  are  un- 
believers, because  you  can  not  find  the  soul  with  your  dissecting  kmfe.  Physicians  are  generally  in- 
fidels. It  is  not  so  with  mathematicians;  they  are  ordinarily  devout.  The  name  of  God  inces- 
santly flowed  from  the  pen  of  Lagrange." 

t  "  At  the  demand  of  the  Archbishop  of  Genoa  and  of  the  Senate  of  the  city,  that  state  was  re- 
united to  the  French  Empire  the  9th  of  June,  1805,  and  formed  three  departments." — Histoire  Pop- 
ulaire  de  Napoleon,  par  M.  Chauvct^p-  247. 


492 


NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE. 


[CHAP.  XXXII. 


ceived  with  the  most  enthusiastic  demonstrations  of  joy.  The  fetes  arranged 
by  the  exultant  inhabitants  on  that  memorable  occasion  surpassed  any  thing 
which  modern  Italy  had  seen.  The  magistrates  met  Napoleon  at  the  gates 
of  the  city  with  the  keys. 


ANNEXATION   OF  GENOA. 


"  Genoa,"  said  they,  "  named  the  Superb  from  its  situation,  is  now  still 
more  worthy  of  that  name  from  its  destination.  It  has  thrown  itself  into  the 
arms  of  a  hero.  It  therefore  places  its  keys  in  the  hands  of  one  capable 
above  all  others  of  maintaining  and  increasing  that  glory." 

The  city  blazed  with  illuminations  ;  the  roar  of  artillery  shook  the  embat- 
tled shores  and  frowning  forts  ;  and  fireworks,  surpassing  the  imagined  cre- 
ations of  fairy  power,  filled  the  whole  heavens,  as  Genoa  rejoiced  over  the 
consummation  of  her  nuptials  with  France. 

The  Kingdom  of  Naples,  sometimes  called  the  Kingdom  of  the  Two  Sici- 
lies, contained  a  population  of  about  eight  millions.  The  government,  al- 
most an  unlimited  monarchy,  was  in  the  hands  of  a  branch  of  the  house  of 
Bourbon.  The  perfidious  court  had  again  and  again  sent  its  ships  and  its 
armies  to  assail  Napoleon.  And  yet,  in  the  hour  of  victory,  Napoleon  had 
ever  treated  the  hostile  government  with  singular  magnanimity.  When  the 
Emperor  was  more  than  a  thousand  miles  from  his  capital,  in  the  wilds  of 
Northern  Germany,  struggling  with  his  banded  foes  upon  the  plains  of  Aus- 
terlitz,  the  King  of  Naples  thought  it  an  inviting  opportunity  to  attack  him 
in  his  rear.  Without  any  provocation,  inviting  the  English  fleet  into  his 
harbors,  and  joining  his  army,  fifty  thousand  strong,  with  those  of  England, 
Austria,  and  Russia,  he  fell  upon  France.  Napoleon  heard  of  this  act  of 
treachery  immediately  after  the  battle  of  Austerlitz.  He  was  extremely 
exasperated. 


1806.]  ANNEXATIONS  AND  ALLIANCES.  493 

The  kings  of  Europe  seemed  to  treat  him  as  an  outlaw,  beyond  the  pale 
of  all  honorable  intercourse.  The  most  solemn  treaties  with  him  were  re- 
garded as  of  no  moment.  They  did  every  thing  in  their  power  to  stir  up 
treason  around  his  throne,  and  to  fan  in  France  the  flame  of  civil  war.  They 
cringed  before  his  mighty  genius  as  they  met  him  on  the  field  of  battle,  or  in 
the  chamber  of  council,  and  yet  were  they  ever  ready  to  stab  him  in  the 
back  the  moment  his  face  was  turned.  An  independent  nation  of  forty  mill- 
ions of  people,  with  hardly  a  dissenting  vote,  had  elected  him  its  monarch. 
The  despots  of  Europe  denied  his  right  to  the  throne.  They  refused  him 
his  title.  They  called  him  contemptuously  Mr.  Bonaparte*  They  resort- 
ed to  every  mean  subterfuge  in  their  diplomacy  to  avoid  the  recognition  of 
his  imperial  dignity.  They  filled  the  world  with  the  blackest  libels  against 
his  fair  fame.  They  accused  him  of  drunkenness,  debauchery,  murder,  blood- 
thirstiness,  incest.  They  fed  those  who  were  constructing  infernal  machines, 
and  mingling  poison,  and  sharpening  daggers,  to  hunt  him  out  of  the  world. 
There  is  great  moral  sublimity  in  the  dignity  with  which  Napoleon  encoun- 
tered all  this,  and  went  straight  on  with  his  work.  He  had  already  spared 
the  Bourbons  of  Naples  three  times.  He  resolved  to  be  their  dupe  no  longer. 
The  following  energetic  proclamation  to  his  army  announced  the  merited 
fate  of  this  perfidious  court : 

"  Soldiers  !  For  the  last  ten  years  I  have  done  every  thing  in  my  power 
to  save  the  King  of  Naples.  He  has  done  every  thing  to  destroy  himself. 
After  the  battles  of  Dego,  Mondovi,  and  Lodi,  he  could  oppose  to  me  but  a 
feeble  resistance.  I  relied  upon  the  word  of  this  prince,  and  was  generous 
toward  him.  When  the  second  coalition  was  dissolved  at  Marengo,  the  King 
of  Naples,  who  had  been  the  first  to  commence  this  unjust  war,  abandoned 
by  his  allies,  remained  single-handed  and  defenseless.  He  implored  me.  I 
pardoned  him  a  second  time.  It  is  but  a  few  months  since  you  were  at  the 
gates  of  Naples.  I  had  sufficiently  powerful  reasons  for  suspecting  the  trea- 
son in  contemplation.  I  was  still  generous.  I  acknowledged  the  neutrality 
of  Naples.  I  ordered  you  to  evacuate  the  kingdom.  For  the  third  time  the 
house  of  Naples  was  re-established  and  saved.  Shall  we  forgive  a  fourth 
time  ?  Shall  we  rely  a  fourth  time  on  a  court  without  faith,  honor,  or  rea- 
son ?  No,  no  !  The  dynasty  of  Naples  has  ceased  to  reign.  Its  existence 
is  incompatible  with  the  honor  of  Europe,  and  the  repose  of  my  crown." 

We  presume  that  there  are  few  readers  who  will  condemn  Napoleon  for 
this  transaction.  Yet  Sir  Archibald  Alison  comments  upon  it  in  the  follow- 
ing terms.  For  Napoleon  to  defend  himself  from  the  treachery  of  despots 
and  from  the  knives  of  assassins,  the  Allies  ever  considered  an  atrocious 
crime. 

"  This  extraordinary  severity  toward  a  monarch  who  was  only  meditating 
hostilities  against  the  French  Emperor,  and  had  certainly  done  less  injury  to 

*  Gustavus,  King  of  Sweden,  in  a  public  note  delivered  to  the  French  envoy  at  Stockholm,  ex- 
pressed his  surprise  at  the  "  indecent  and  ridiculous  insolence  which  Monsieur  Napoleon  Bonapartt 
had  permitted  to  be  inserted  in  the  Momteur."  Alexander,  in  public  documents,  addressed  him  as 
chief  of  the  French  government.  And  the  British  cabinet  passed  a  solemn  decree  that  the  Emperor 
Napoleon,  while  at  St.  Helena,  should  receive  no  other  title  than  that  of  General  Bonaparte.  Gu»- 
tavus  ever  insisted  that  Napoleon  was  The  Beast  described  in  the  book  of  Revelation. 

VOL.  II— N 


494  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.  [CHAP.  XXXII. 

his  dominions  than  any  European  dynasty,  was  one  of  the  most  unjustifiable 
acts  of  that  relentless  conqueror,  and,  at  the  same  time,  descriptive  of  that 
mixture  of  caution  and  prudence  by  which  his  ambitious  enterprises  were 
always  regulated.  Let  the  case  be  put  as  the  French  themselves  stated  it. 
The  embassador  and  cabinet  of  Naples,  with  the  dagger  at  their  throat,  and 
under  the  threat  of  immediate  invasion,  had  agreed  on  the  21st  of  Septem- 
ber to  a  treaty  of  neutrality,  which  was  ratified  by  the  court,  under  the  like 
menaces,  on  the  8th  of  October.  The  arrival  of  the  Russian  and  English 
squadron  in  the  Bay  of  Naples  six  weeks  afterward  liberated  them  from 
their  apprehensions,  and  the  cabinet  was  to  violate  the  former  treaty,  and 
join  in  the  coalition  against  France.  Such  a  departure  from  national  faith 
was  dishonorable ;  it  was  a  fair  ground  for  hostility,  and  might  have  justified 
exactions  of  considerable  magnitude ;  but  was  it  a  sufficient  reason  for  de- 
thronement ?  That  is  the  point ;  and  if  it  is,  what  European  dynasty  has 
not,  fifty  times  over,  justly  provoked  this  severity  ?"* 

Immediately  Napoleon  wrote,  in  the  following  words,  to  his  brother  Jo- 
seph :  "  My  wish  is,  that  in  the  first  days  of  February  you  should  enter  the 
kingdom  of  Naples,  and  that  I  should  be  informed,  in  the  course  of  the 
month,  that  my  eagles  hang  over  that  capital.  You  will  not  make  any  sus- 
pension of  arms  or  capitulation.  My  intention  is,  that  the  Bourbons  should 
have  ceased  to  reign  in  Naples.  I  wish  to  seat  on  the  throne  a  prince  of  my 
house  ;  you,  in  the  first  place,  if  that  suits  you  ;  another,  if  that  does  not  suit 
you."t 

Joseph  took  an  army  and  went  to  Naples.  Upon  his  approach  the  En- 
glish fled  with  the  utmost  precipitation,  taking  with  them  the  royal  family.^ 
By  thus  ejecting  the  royal  family  of  Naples,  and  placing  the  crown  upon  the 
brow  of  his  brother,  Napoleon  greatly  exasperated  the  remaining  sovereigns 
of  Europe,  and  added  much  to  his  embarrassments.  But  by  leaving  the 
Bourbons  on  the  throne,  after  such  repeated  acts  of  perfidy,  he  exposed  him- 
self to  the  peril  of  another  treacherous  assault  whenever  hostile  Europe 
should  again  rise  in  arms  against  him.  Wisely  he  chose  the  least  of  two 
evils.  And  now  the  idea  became  an  established  principle  in  the  mind  of 
Napoleon,  that  as  all  the  feudal  kings  of  Europe  were  in  heart  banded  against 
him,  and  were  ever  watching  for  opportunities  to  assail  him,  he  must 

*  Alison's  History  of  Europe,  vol.  ii.,  p.  376. 

t  "  The  extremity  of  the  Peninsula  and  Sicily  compose  the  kingdom  of  Naples,  the  most  power- 
ful state  in  Italy,  most  like  Rome  in  ignorance  and  barbarism,  and  still  worse  governed,  if  possible. 
There  reigned  a  Bourbon,  a  mild,  imbecile  prince,  devoted  to  one  kind  of  pursuit,  fishing  and  field 
sports.  These  occupations  engrossed  all  his  time.  While  he  was  engaged  in  them,  the  govern- 
ment of  his  kingdom  was  abandoned  to  his  wife,  an  Austrian  princess,  sister  to  the  Queen  of  France. 
This  princess,  a  woman  of  capricious  disposition,  of  licentious  passions,  having  the  Minister  Acton 
for  her  paramour,  who  was  sold  to  the  English,  conducted  the  affairs  of  the  kingdom  in  a  senseless 
manner.  The  English,  whose  policy  it  always  was  to  gain  a  footing  on  the  Continent  by  controll- 
ing the  petty  states  bordering  upon  its  coasts,  had  endeavored  to  make  themselves  the  patrons  of 
Naples  as  well  as  of  Portugal  and  Holland.  They  excited  the  hatred  of  the  queen  against  France, 
and  with  that  hatred  infused  the  ambition  to  rule  Italy." — Thiers. 

t  "  The  brief  reign  of  Joseph  was  a  succession  of  benefits  to  a  people  who  had  been  long  de- 
graded by  a  most  oppressive  despotism.  He  founded  civil  and  military  schools,  some  of  which  yet 
exist — overthrew  feudal  privileges — suppressed  the  convents — opened  new  roads — caused  the  Laz- 
zaroni  of  Naples  to  work  and  be  paid— drained  marshes,  and  every  where  animated  with  new  life 
and  hope  a  people  long  sunk  in  abject  servitude." — New  York  American. 


1806.]  ANNEXATIONS  AND  ALLIANCES.  495 

strengthen  his  power  by  establishing  thrones  and  sustaining  governments 
which  should  be  occupied  by  his  friends.  It  was  a  struggle,  not  only  for  his 
political  existence,  but  also  for  the  dignity  and  the  independence  of  the  French 
nation. 

Holland  was  a  low,  marshy  country,  about  the  size  of  the  State  of  Mary- 
land. Two  million  and  a  half  of  inhabitants,  protected  from  the  sea  by 
dikes,  cultivated  its  fields  and  worked  its  factories.  Holland  had  followed 
in  the  footsteps  of  France  in  the  effort  to  obtain,  by  revolutionary  violence, 
deliverance  from  aristocratic  usurpation.  England,  with  her  allies,  fell  upon 
Holland  as  upon  France.  At  one  swoop  she  robbed  her  of  her  colonies, 
swept  her  commerce  from  the  seas,  and  held  all  her  ports  in  close  blockade. 
Hostile  armies  invaded  her  territory.  The  nation,  single-handed,  was  pow- 
erless against  such  multitudinous  foes.  She  appealed  to  France  for  aid. 
The  aid  was  furnished,  and  the  allied  hosts  expelled.  When  France  adopt- 
ed monarchical  forms  of  government,  Holland  decided  to  do  the  same.  Hol- 
land and  France,  mutually  sympathizing,  needed  mutual  support.  Their 
most  intimate  alliance  seemed  to  be  essential  to  their  existence.  Holland 
therefore  chose  Louis  Bonaparte  for  her  king.  Louis  was  an  intelligent, 
conscientious,  and  upright  man.  Even  the  voice  of  slander  has  not  attempt- 
ed to  sully  his  fame.  He  won  the  enthusiastic  love  of  his  subjects. 

The  Cisalpine  Republic  had  received  the  name  of  the  Kingdom  of  Italy. 
It  was  a  small  territory,  about  the  size  of  the  State  of  Maryland,  containing 
three  million  and  a  half  of  inhabitants.  It  was  indebted  to  Napoleon  for  ex- 
istence. Unaided  by  his  arm,  it  could  not  for  an  hour  have  protected  itself 
from  the  assaults  of  Austria.  In  mid-winter,  four  hundred  and  fifty  deputies 
had  crossed  the  Alps  to  implore  the  assistance  of  Napoleon  in  organizing 
their  government,  and  in  defending  them  from  the  armed  despotisms  which 
threatened  their  destruction.  In  the  following  words  they  had  addressed 
Napoleon : 

"  The  Cisalpine  Republic  needs  a  support  which  will  cause  it  to  be  re- 
spected by  the  powers  which  have  not  yet  recognized  its  existence.  It  ab- 
solutely requires  a  man  who,  by  the  ascendant  of  his  name  and  strength,  may 
give  it  the  rank  and  consideration  which  it  may  not  otherwise  obtain.  There- 
fore General  Bonaparte  is  requested  to  honor  the  Cisalpine  Republic  by 
continuing  to  govern  it,  by  blending  the  direction  of  its  affairs  with  those  of 
France,  so  long  as  shall  be  necessary  to  unite  all  parts  of  its  territory  under 
the  same  political  institutions,  and  to  cause  it  to  be  recognized  by  the  pow- 
ers of  Europe." 

At  the  earnest  solicitation  of  the  people,  Napoleon  afterward  accepted  the 
crown,  declaring  Eugene  to  be  his  heir.  On  this  occasion  he  said  to  the 
French  Senate : 

"Powerful  and  great  is  the  French  Empire.  Greater  still  is  our  moder- 
ation. We  have,  in  a  manner,  conquered  Holland,  Switzerland,  Italy,  Ger- 
many. But  in  the  midst  of  such  unparalleled  success  we  have  listened  only 
to  the  counsels  of  moderation.  Of  so  many  conquered  provinces  we  have 
retained  only  the  one  which  was  necessary  to  maintain  France  in  that  rank 
among  nations  which  she  has  always  enjoyed.  The  partition  of  Poland,  the 
provinces  torn  from  Turkey,  the  conquest  of  India,  and  of  almost  all  the 


496  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.  [CHAP.  XXXII. 

European  colonies,  have  turned  the  balance  against  us.  To  form  a  counter, 
poise  to  such  acquisitions,  we  must  retain  something.  But  we  must  keep 
only  what  is  useful  and  necessary.  Great  would  have  been  the  addition  to 
the  wealth  and  the  resources  of  our  territory  if  we  had  united  to  them  the 
Italian  Republic.  But  we  gave  it  independence  at  Lyons.  And  now  we 
proceed  a  step  further,  and  recognize  its  ultimate  separation  from  the  crown 
of  France,  deferring  only  the  execution  of  that  project  till  it  can  be  done 
without  danger  to  Italian  independence." 

The  government  of  Eugene  in  Italy  was  popular  in  the  extreme.  The 
Italians  still  look  back  upon  the  days  of  the  Kingdom  of  Italy  as  the  most 
brilliant  and  the  most  prosperous  of  their  modern  history.  The  administra- 
tion of  the  government  by  Napoleon  is  ever  spoken  of  with  admiration. 
Eugene  followed  the  maxims  which  he  received  from  the  sagacity  and  the 
experience  of  the  Emperor.  "Unlike,"  says  Alison,  "the  conquered  states 
of  other  European  monarchies,  the  inhabitants  of  Lombardy  felt  the  foreign 
yoke  only  in  the  quickened  circulation  of  wealth,  the  increased  vent  for  in- 
dustry, the  wider  field  for  exertion.  Honors,  dignities,  and  emoluments,  all 
were  reserved  for  Italians.  Hardly  a  magistrate  or  civil  functionary  was  of 
foreign  birth.  Every  where  great  and  useful  undertakings  were  set  on  foot. 
Splendid  edifices  ornamented  the  towns.  Useful  canals  irrigated  the  fields." 

The  state  of  Piedmont,  a  province  of  Sardinia,  was  about  as  large  as  Mas- 
sachusetts. It  contained  a  population  of  one  and  a  half  million.  The  in- 
habitants were  overjoyed  to  escape  from  the  iron  despotism  of  Austrian  rule. 
Cordially  sympathizing  with  the  French  in  their  political  principles,  they  tu- 
multuously  joined  them.  The  whole  land  blazed  with  illuminations,  and  was 
vocal  with  rejoicings,  as  Piedmont  was  annexed  to  France.  Napoleon  was 
of  Italian  parentage.  He  ever  remained  faithful  to  the  souvenirs  of  his  ori- 
gin. The  Italian  language  was  his  mother  tongue,  and  the  interests  of  Italy 
were  peculiarly  near  to  his  heart. 

The  Peninsula  was  divided  up  into  innumerable  petty  dukedoms,  princi- 
palities, and  kingdoms.  None  of  these  could  be  independent.  They  could 
only  exist  by  seeking  shelter  beneath  the  flag  of  Austria  or  France.  It  was 
one  of  the  fondest  dreams  of  Napoleon's  noble  ambition  to  restore  Italian 
independence.  He  hoped,  by  his  influence,  to  have  been  able  to  unite  all 
these  feeble  governments  in  one  great  kingdom,  containing  twenty  millions 
of  inhabitants.  Rome  he  would  make  its  illustrious  capital.  He  designed 
to  rescue  the  immortal  city  from  the  ruins  with  which  it  is  encumbered ;  to 
protect  its  ancient  monuments  from  the  further  ravages  of  decay,  and  to  re- 
store the  city,  as  far  as  possible,  to  its  ancient  splendor.  Napoleon  had 
gained  such  an  influence  over  the  Italian  people,  that  he  could,  without  much 
difficulty,  have  carried  this  magnificent  project  into  execution,  were  it  not 
for  certain  political  considerations  which  arrested  him.  He  wished  for  peace 
with  Europe.  He  wished,  if  possible,  to  conciliate  the  friendly  feelings  of 
the  surrounding  monarchies  toward  the  new  institutions  in  France. 

To  appease  Austria,  he  deemed  it  wise  to  leave  her  in  possession  of  her 
conquest  of  the  ancient  state  of  Venice  as  far  as  the  Adige.  Spain  was  pro- 
pitiated by  allowing  her  two  princes  to  occupy  the  throne  of  Etruria.  By 
permitting  the  Pope  to  retain  his  secular  power  over  the  States  of  the  Church, 


1806.]  ANNEXATIONS  AND  ALLIANCES.  497 

he  secured  throughout  Europe  a  religious  interest  in  favor  of  France.  The 
Bourbons  he  had  wished  to  leave  undisturbed  upon  the  throne  of  Naples, 
notwithstanding  reiterated  acts  of  treachery  against  him.  This  would  be  a 
pledge  to  Europe  of  his  desire  not  to  introduce  violence  and  revolution  into 
other  governments.  The  power  was  clearly  in  his  hands.  He  could  have 
set  all  these  considerations  at  defiance.  So  large  a  proportion  of  the  popu- 
lation of  Italy  had  imbibed  the  principles  of  equality  which  the  French  Rev- 
olution had  originated,  that  they  implored  the  permission  of  Napoleon  to 
drive  their  rulers  from  their  thrones.  Wherever  the  French  armies  appear- 
ed, they  were  welcomed  by  a  large  portion  of  the  people  as  friends  and  lib- 
erators. But  Napoleon  did  not  deem  it  wise  to  spread  through  Europe  the 
flames  of  revolution,  neither  did  he  consider  it  his  duty  to  allow  the  des- 
pots of  Europe  to  force  back  upon  France  a  rejected  and  detested  dynasty. 
The  various  annexations  and  alliances  to  which  we  have  above  referred 
took  place  at  various  times  between  1802  and  1806.-" 

Such,  in  the  main,  was  the  position  of  France  at  this  period.  "  While 
England,"  says  Alison,  "was  extending  its  mighty  arms  over  both  hemi- 
spheres, France  was  laying  its  iron  grasp  on  the  richest  and  most  important 
provinces  of  Europe.  The  strife  could  not  be  other  than  desperate  between 
two  such  powers."  The  difference  between  the  two  was  simply  this.  En- 
gland was  conquering  and  annexing  to  her  vast  empire  continents,  islands, 
and  provinces  all  over  the  world:  in  the  East  Indies  and  in  the  West  Indies, 
in  North  America  and  in  South  America,  in  Europe,  in  Asia,  in  Africa ;  in 
the  Atlantic  Ocean,  the  Pacific  Ocean,  and  the  Indian  Ocean ;  in  the  Medi- 
terranean Sea,  and  upon  the  shores  of  the  Red  Sea  and  of  the  Caspian.  It 
was  her  boast  that  upon  the  territories  of  Britannia  the  sun  never  ceased  to 
shine.*  She  had  formed  coalitions  against  France  with  Russia,  Austria,  Tur- 
key, Prussia,  Naples,  Sweden,  Spain,  Portugal,  and  innumerable  other  petty 
principalities  and  dukedoms.  And  yet  this  England,  the  undisputed  mistress 
of  the  sea,  and  more  powerful  upon  land  than  imperial  Rome  in  her  meridian 
grandeur,  wras  filling  the  world  with  clamor  against  the  insatiable  ambition 
of  Napoleon.  He  had  annexed  to  France,  Genoa,  the  valleys  of  Piedmont, 
and  a  few  leagues  of  territory  along  the  left  banks  of  the  Rhine,  that  that 
noble  river  might  be  one  of  his  barriers  against  invading  hosts.  He  had  also 
strengthened  his  empire  to  resist  its  multitudinous  foes,  by  forming  strong 
friendly  alliances  with  the  Kingdom  of  Italy,  Bavaria,  Switzerland,  Holland, 
and  a  few  minor  states.  To  call  this  the  spirit  of  encroachment  is  an  abuse 
of  language.  It  was  merely  putting  a  stronger  lock  upon  his  door  as  a  nec- 
essary protection  against  robbers. 

There  was  a  fatality  attending  Napoleon's  career  which  he  ever  recog' 
nized,  and  which  no  human  wisdom  could  have  averted.  Aristocratic  Eu- 
rope was  necessarily  in  arms  against  the  Democratic  Emperor.  Had  Na- 
poleon neglected  to  fortify  himself  against  aggression,  by  enlarging  the 
boundaries  of  France,  and  by  forming  friendly  alliances,  the  coalesced  des- 
pots would  have  laughed  him  to  scorn  as  they  tore  the  crown  from  his  brow. 
But,  on  the  other  hand,  by  disseminating  principles  of  equality,  and  organ- 

*  The  population  in  India  over  whom  England,  by  the  energies  of  war,  had  extended  her  domin- 
ion, is  estimated  by  the  London  Times  to  be  150,000,000. 


498  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.  [CHAP.  XXXIL 

izing  his  friends  as  barriers  against  his  foes,  he  alarmed  still  more  the  mon- 
archs  around  him,  and  roused  them  to  still  more  desperate  efforts  for  his  de- 
struction. The  government  of  England  can  not  be  called  a  despotism.  Next 
to  that  of  the  United  States,  it  is  the  most  liberal  and  free  of  any  upon  the 
globe.  But  the  English  oligarchy  dreaded  exceedingly  the  democratic  prin- 
ciples which  had  gained  such  an  ascendency  in  France.  Thousands  of  her 
population,  headed  by  many  of  the  most  eloquent  members  of  Parliament, 
were  clamorous  for  popular  reform.  Ireland  was  on  the  eve  of  revolt.  The 
maritime  supremacy  of  England  was  also  imperiled  should  Napoleon,  with 
his  almost  superhuman  genius,  have  free  scope  for  the  development  of  the 
energies  of  France  ;  therefore  liberty-loving  England  allowed  herself  to  head 
an  alliance  of  despots  against  popular  rights. 

Combined  Europe  crushed  Napoleon.  And  what  is  Europe  now?  It 
contains  but  two  classes — the  oppressors  and  the  oppressed.  "The  day  will 
yet  come,"  said  Napoleon,  "when  the  English  will  lament  the  victory  of 
Waterloo."  Incomprehensible  day !  Concurrence  of  unheard-of  fatalities  ! 
Singular  defeat,  by  which,  notwithstanding  the  most  fatal  catastrophe,  the 
glory  of  the  conquered  has  not  suffered,  nor  the  fame  of  the  conqueror  been 
increased  !  The  memory  of  the  one  will  survive  his  destruction.  The  mem- 
ory of  the  other  will  perhaps  be  buried  in  his  triumph.  "When  I  heard," 
said  Robert  Hall,  "  of  the  result  of  the  battle  of  Waterloo,  I  felt  that  the 
clock  of  the  world  had  gone  back  six  ages." 

In  this  connection  Napoleon  remarked  at  St.  Helena:  "The  English  are 
said  to.  traffic  in  every  thing.  Why,  then,  does  she  not  sell  liberty,  for  which 
she  might  get  a  high  price,  and  without  any  fear  of  exhausting  her  own 
stock  ?  For  example,  what  would  not  the  poor  Spaniards  give  her  to  free 
them  from  the  yoke  to  which  they  have  again  been  subjected  ?  I  am  confi- 
dent that  they  would  willingly  pay  any  price  to  recover  their  freedom.  It 
was  I  who  inspired  them  with  this  sentiment ;  and  the  error  into  which  I 
fell  might  at  least  be  turned  into  good  account  by  another  government.  As 
to  the  Italians,  I  have  planted  in  their  hearts  principles  which  can  never  be 
rooted  out.  What  can  England  do  better  than  to  promote  and  assist  the 
noble  impulses  of  modern  regeneration  ?  Sooner  or  later  this  regeneration 
must  be  accomplished.  Sovereigns  and  old  aristocratic  institutions  may  ex- 
ert their  efforts  to  oppose  it,  but  in  vain.  They  are  dooming  themselves  to 
the  punishment  of  Sisyphus.  Sooner  or  later  some  arm  will  tire  of  resist- 
ance, and  then  the  whole  system  will  fall  to  nothing.  Would  it  not  be  bet- 
ter to  yield  with  a  good  grace  ?  This  was  my  intention.  Why  does  En- 
gland refuse  to  avail  herself  of  the  glory  and  advantage  she  might  derive 
from  this  course  of  proceeding  ?" 

Napoleon,  fully  conscious  of  the  uncertainty  of  his  position,  wrote  to  Jo- 
seph in  Naples,  urging  him  to  erect  a  powerful  fortress  upon  the  sea-coast. 
"  Five  or  six  millions  a  year,"  said  he,  "  ought  to  be  devoted  for  ten  years 
to  this  great  creation,  in  such  a  manner  that  with  each  expenditure  of  six 
millions  a  degree  of  strength  should  be  gained,  and  so  that,  so  early  as  the 
second  or  third  year,  you  might  be  able  to  shut  yourself  up  in  this  vast  for- 
tress. Neither  you  nor  I  know  what  is  to  befall  us  in  two,  three,  or  four 
years.  Centuries  are  not  for  us.  If  you  are  energetic,  you  may  hold  out,  in 


1806.]  ANNEXATIONS  AND  ALLIANCES.  499 

such  an  asylum,  long  enough  to  defy  the  rigors  of  Fortune,  and  to  await  the 
return  of  her  favors."  On  another  occasion,  he  remarked  to  some  friends, 
who  had  gathered  around  him  in  the  Tuileries,  when  in  the  very  meridian 
of  his  power,  "The  vicissitudes  of  life  are  very  great.  It  would  not  be 
strange  should  my  son  yet  have  cause  to  deem  himself  very  fortunate  with 
an  income  of  twelve  hundred  dollars  a  year." 

Napoleon  was  ever  of  the  impression  that  the  majority  of  the  British  peoi 
pie  were  opposed  to  the  war ;  that  it  was  maintained  solely  by  the  influence 
and  to  promote  the  interests  of  the  aristocracy. 

"  I  would  not  have  attempted  to  subject  England  to  France,"  said  he  to 
O'Meara.  "  I  could  not  have  united  two  nations  so  dissimilar.  If  I  had 
succeeded  in  my  project,  I  would  have  abolished  the  monarchy  and  estab- 
lished a  republic,  instead  of  the  oligarchy  by  which  you  are  governed.  I 
would  have  separated  Ireland  from  England,  and  left  them  to  themselves, 
after  having  sown  the  seeds  of  republicanism  in  their  morale.  I  would  have 
allowed  the  House  of  Commons  to  remain,  but  would  have  introduced  a 
great  reform."  "Would  England,"  says  Alison,  "have  remained  true  to 
herself  under  the  temptation  to  swerve  produced  by  such  means  ?  This  is 
a  point-  upon  which  no  Briton  would  have  entertained  a  doubt  till  within 
these  few  years.  But  the  manner  in  which  the  public  mind  has  reeled  from 
the  application  of  inferior  stimulants  since  1830,  and  the  strong  partiality  to 
French  alliance  which  has  recently  grown  up  with  the  spread  of  Democratic 
principles,  has  now  suggested  the  painful  doubt  whether  Napoleon  did  not 
know  us  better  than  we  knew  ourselves,  and  whether  we  could  have  resist- 
ed those  methods  of  seduction  which  had  proved  fatal  to  the  patriotism  of 
so  many  other  people.  The  spirit  of  the  nation,  indeed,  then  ran  high  against 
Gallic  invasion ;  unanimity  unprecedented  animated  the  British  people.  But, 
strong  as  that  feeling  was,  it  is  now  doubtful  whether  it  would  not  have  been 
supplanted,  in  a  large  portion  of  the  nation  at  least,  by  a  still  stronger,  and 
if  the  sudden  offer  of  all  the  glittering  objects  of  Democratic  ambition  would 
not  have  shaken  the  patriotism  of  a  considerable  portion  of  the  British,  as  it 
unquestionably  would  of  the  great  bulk  of  the  Irish  people."  *S 

Sixteen  princes,  of  various  degrees  of  rank  and  power,  occupying  small 
states  in  the  valley  of  the  Rhine,  formed  a  league.  The  plan  originated  with 
Napoleon.  The  states  thus  united  took  the  name  of  the  Confederation  of 
the  Rhine.  It  was  a  compact  somewhat  resembling  that  of  the  "  United 
States,"  and  embraced  a  population  of  about  fourteen  million.  Napoleon 
was  elected  Protector  of  the  Confederation.  Perfect  liberty  of  conscience 
was  established  through  all  the  states,  and  they  entered  unitedly  into  an  al- 
liance with  France,  offensive  and  defensive.  In  case  of  war,  France  was  to 
furnish  200,000  men,  and  the  Confederates  63,000.  All  disputes  between 
the  states  were  to  be  settled  by  a  congress  composed  of  two  bodies.  When 
this  Confederation  was  formed  to  secure  external  and  internal  peace,  Napo- 
leon sent  word  to  the  King  of  Prussia  "  that  he  would  see  without  pain,  nay, 
even  with  pleasure,  Prussia  ranging  under  her  influence  all  the  states  of  the 
north  of  Germany,  by  means  of  a  confederation  similar  to  that  of  the  Rhine." 

Twelve  years  before  these  events,  Spain  had  entered  into  a  treaty  with 
France,  by  which  she  agreed  to  furnish  France,  in  case  of  war,  with  an  aux- 


500 


NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE. 


[CHAP.  XXXIL 


iliary  force,  which  was  subsequently  commuted  into  a  subsidy  of  fifteen  mill- 
ion of  dollars  a  year.  England  was  very  reasonably  annoyed  that  this  large 
sum  should  be  furnished  her  foe  by  r,  nation  professing  neutrality.  Spain 
was  in  a  dilemma.  If  she  refused  to  fulfill  the  treaty,  war  with  France 
would  be  the  inevitable  consequence.  If  she  continued  to  supply  France 
with  money,  she  must  expose  herself  to  the  broadsides  of  the  British  navy. 
After  many  remonstrances. on  the  part  of  England,  and  denials,  apologies, 
and  protestations  on  the  part  of  Spain,  England,  without  any  declaration  of 
war,  issued  secret  orders  to  her  fleet  to  capture  the  merchant-ships  of  Spain, 
wherever  found.  Four  Spanish  galleons,  freighted  with  treasure,  all  unsus- 
picious of  danger,  were  approaching  Cadiz.  A  squadron  of  four  British  ships 
attacked  them.  One  of  the  Spanish  ships  was  blown  up,  and  all  on  board, 
two  hundred  and  fifty  in  number,  perished.  The  other  three  ships,  their 
decks  slippery  with  blood,  were  captured.  The  treasure  on  board  was  over 
ten  million  of  dollars.  Language  can  not  do  justice  to  this  act. 

This  occurrence  produced  intense  excitement  throughout  England.  The 
government,  with  much  embarrassment,  defended  the  measure  as  justifiable 
and  necessary.  Fox,  Lord  Grenville,  and  vast  numbers  of  the  British  peo- 
ple, condemned  the  act  as  an  indelible  disgrace  to  the  nation.  Spain  imme- 
diately declared  war  against  Great 
Britain.  The  united  fleets  of  France 
and  Spain,  some  thirty  ships  in  num- 
ber, were  met  by  an  equal  squadron 
of  English  ships  off  Cape  Trafalgar. 
It  was  the  21st  of  October,  1805,  the 
day  after  the  capitulation  of  Ulm.  A 
bloody  conflict  ensued.  The  combined 
fleet  was  entirely  overthrown.  Nine- 
teen ships  were  taken  ;  seven  escaped 
into  Cadiz  so  pierced  and  shattered 
as  to  be  perfectly  unserviceable ;  four 
made  way  for  the  Straits,  and  were 
captured  a  few  days  afterward.  Thus 
the  fleets  of  France  and  Spain  were  in  fact  annihilated.  England  remained 
the  undisputed  mistress  of  the  seas.  Napoleon  could  no  longer  hope  to  as- 
sail her.  He  could  only  strive  to  ward  off  the  blows  which  she  continued 
unceasingly  to  deal  upon  him.  This  led  him  more  deeply  to  feel  the  neces- 
sity of  strengthening  himself  upon  the  Continent,  as  the  wide  world  of  water 
was  entirely  in  possession  of  his  foes.* 

The  capitulation  at  Ulm  and  the  victory  of  Austerlitz  caused  the  defeat 
of  Trafalgar  to  be  forgotten.  The  echoes  of  that  terrific  naval  conflict  died 
away  amid  the  solitudes  of  the  ocean,  while  the  resonance  of  the  mighty 
tread  of  Napoleon's  armies  vibrated  through  every  capital  upon  the  Conti- 

*  Nelson  lost  his  life  in  this  conflict.  England  gratefully  conferred  all  possible  honors  upon  his 
memory.  His  brother  was  made  an  earl,  with  a  pension  of  30,000  dollars  a  year.  Each  of  his  sis- 
ters received  a  gift  of  50,000  dollars,  and  500,000  dollars  to  purchase  an  estate.  A  public  funeral 
was  decreed  him,  and  a  monument  erected  in  St.  Paul's  Cathedral.  "  At  Waterloo,"  says  Alison, 
"  England  fought  for  victory  ;  at  Trafalgar,  for  existence." 


BATTLE    OF    TRAFALGAR. 


1806.]  ANNEXATIONS  AND  ALLIANCES. 

nent.  William  Pitt  soon  died,  at  the  age  of  forty-seven.  Public  opinion  in 
England  now  imperiously  called  for  Mr.  Fox  as  prime  minister.  The  king 
was  compelled  to  yield.  Mr.  Fox  and  Napoleon  were  friends — mutual  ad- 
mirers. The  masses  of  the  British  people  were  in  favor  of  peace.  The 
powerful  aristocracy,  both  of  wealth  and  rank,  were  almost  to  a  man  in  favor 
of  war.  Napoleon  was  exceedingly  gratified  by  this  change,  and  was  sair 
guine  in  the  hope  of  immediate  peace. __>--' 

Soon  after  the  accession  of  Mr.  Fox  to  power,  a  wretch  presented  himself 
to  him  and  offered  to  assassinate  Napoleon.  Mr.  Fox  indignantly  ordered 
the  man  to  be  seized  and  imprisoned,  and  wrote  a  noble  letter  to  the  French 
government  denouncing  the  odious  project,  and  offering  to  place  the  man  at 
their  disposal.  This  generous  procedure,  so  different  from  that  which  Na- 
poleon had  been  accustomed  to  receive  from  the  British  government,  touched 
the  magnanimous  heart  of  the  Emperor.  "  There,"  he  exclaimed,  "  I  recog- 
nize the  principles  of  honor  and  virtue  which  have  always  animated  Mr.  Fox. 
Thank  him  in  my  name.  Tell  him,  whether  the  policy  of  his  sovereign  causes 
us  to  continue  much  longer  at  war,  or  whether  as  speedy  an  end  as  the  two 
nations  can  desire  is  put  to  a  quarrel  useless  to  humanity,  I  rejoice  at  the 
new  character  which,  from  this  proceeding,  the  war  has  already  taken.  It 
is  an  omen  of  what  may  be  expected  from  a  cabinet,  of  the  principles  of 
which  I  am  delighted  to  judge  from  those  of  Mr.  Fox.  He  is  one  of  the  men 
most  fitted  to  feel  in  every  thing  what  is  excellent,  what  is  truly  great."  M. 
Talleyrand  communicated  these  sentiments  to  the  English  minister.  A  re- 
ply was  immediately  returned  by  Mr.  Fox,  in  frank  and  cordial  terms  pro- 
posing peace.  Napoleon  was  delighted  with  the  proposal.  Most  sincerely 
he  wished  for  reconciliation  with  Great  Britain.  Rejoiced  at  this  overture, 
he  accepted  it  with  the  utmost  cordiality. 

But  it  was  now  extremely  difficult  to  settle  the  conditions  of  peace.  Na- 
poleon was  so  powerful,  that  France  would  accede  to  any  terms  which  her 
Emperor  should  judge  to  be  best ;  but  Mr.  Fox  was  surrounded  in  Parliament 
by  an  opposition  of  immense  strength.  The  Tories  wished  for  war.  En- 
gland had  made  enormous  conquests  of  the  colonies  of  France  and  her  allies. 
She  wished  to  retain  them  all.  France  had  made  vast  accessions  to  her 
power  upon  the  Continent.  The  English  government  insisted  that  she 
should  surrender  all.  England  wished  to  be  the  great  manufacturer  of  the 
world,  with  all  nations  for  her  purchasers,  and  with  the  commerce  of  all 
climes  engrossed  by  her  fleets.  Napoleon,  though  most  anxious  for  peace, 
was  not  willing  that  France  should  become  the  vassal  of  England.  He 
deemed  it  a  matter  of  the  first  moment  that  French  manufactures  should  be 
encouraged  by  protective  duties.  Under  these  circumstances,  Napoleon  said 
to  Mr.  Fox,  through  M.  Talleyrand, 

"  France  will  not  dispute  with  England  the  conquests  England  has  made. 
Neither  does  France  claim  any  thing  more  upon  the  Continent  than  what  she 
now  has.  It  will,  therefore,  be  easy  to  lay  down  the  basis  of  a  peace,  if  En- 
gland has  not  inadmissible  views  relative  to  commercial  interests.  The  Em- 
peror is  persuaded  that  the  real  cause  of  the  rupture  of  the  peace  of  Amiens 
was  no  other  than  the  refusal  to  conclude  a  commercial  treaty.  Be  assured 
that  the  Emperor,  without  refusing  certain  commercial  advantages,  if  they 


502  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.  [CHAP.  XXXII. 

are  possible,  will  not  admit  of  any  treaty  prejudicial  to  French  industry, 
which  he  means  to  protect  by  all  duties  and  prohibitions  which  can  favor  its 
development.  He  insists  on  having  liberty  to  do  at  home  all  that  he  pleases, 
all  that  is  beneficial,  without  any  rival  nation  having  a  right  to  find  fault  with 
him." 

It  is  cheering  to  contemplate  the  generous  intercourse  between  these  noble 
men.  Mr.  Fox  accompanied  each  dispatch  with  a  private  note,  full  of  frank 
and  cordial  friendship.  M.  Talleyrand,  who  was  but  the  amanuensis  of  Na- 
poleon, followed  his  example.  It  will  be  remembered  that,  at  the  commence- 
ment of  the  war,  the  English  captured  all  the  French  whom  they  could  find 
upon  the  sea.  Napoleon,  in  retaliation,  captured  all  the  English  whom  he 
could  find  upon  the  land.  Many  members  of  the  highest  families  in  England 
were  detained  in  France.  Mr.  Fox  applied  for  the  release  of  several  of  them 
on  parole.  Napoleon  immediately  sent  to  him  every  one  designated  in  the 
list.  Mr.  Fox,  in  return  for  this  magnanimity,  released  an  equal  number  of 
illustrious  captives  taken  in  the  battle  of  Trafalgar.* 

There  was  another  serious  difficulty  in  the  way  of  peace.  The  King  of 
England  was  also  King  of  Hanover.  This  kingdom,  situated  in  the  northern 
part  of  Germany,  occupied  a  territory  about  twice  as  large  as  the  State  of 
Massachusetts,  and  embraced  a  million  and  a  half  of  inhabitants.  At  the 
commencement  of  the  last  coalition  against  France,  Napoleon  had  taken  it. 
At  the  peace  of  Presburg,  immediately  after  the  battle  of  Austerlitz,  Napo- 
leon had  allowed  Prussia  to  take  possession  of  the  territory.  English  honor 
demanded  that  Hanover  should  be  restored.  This  appeared  absolutely  es- 
sential to  peace  ;  but  Prussia  grasped  her  rich  booty  with  deathless  tenacity. 
Napoleon,  however,  meditated  restoring  Hanover  to  England,  and  conferring 
upon  Prussia  some  other  provinces  in  requital.  In  the  midst  of  this  laby- 
rinth of  diplomacy,  Fox  was  suddenly  taken  sick  and  died.  The  peace  of 
the  world  was  entombed  in  his  sepulchre.  New  influences  gained  strength 
in  the  cabinet  of  St.  James,  and  all  hopes  of  peace  were  at  an  end.  The 
English  ministers  now  presented  all  kinds  of  obstacles  in  the  way  of  peace, 
and  the  embassadors  at  Paris  conducting  the  negotiations  soon  demanded 
their  passports.  "  There  can  be  no  doubt,"  says  H.  B.  Ireland,  "  but  that 
the  hopes  of  a  new  war  indulged  by  the  English  cabinet  constituted  the 
basis  of  those  objections.  This  rupture  was  hailed  at  the  London  Stock  Ex- 
change with  the  most  savage  demonstrations  of  joy." 

The  death  of  Fox  Napoleon  ever  deemed  one  of  the  greatest  of  calamities. 
At  St.  Helena  he  said,  "  Half  a  dozen  such  men  as  Fox  and  Cornwallis  would 
be  sufficient  to  establish  the  moral  character  of  a  nation. 

"  With  such  men  I  should  always  have  agreed.  We  should  soon  have  set- 
tled our  differences,  and  not  only  France  would  have  been  at  peace  with  a 
nation  at  bottom  worthy  of  esteem,  but  we  should  have  done  great  things  to- 

*  A  friend  writes  to  me,  "  Sir  Henry  Halford,  who  was  physician  to  George  IV.,  in  one  of  his 
essays  '  On  some  of  the  Results  of  the  Successful  Practice  of  Physic,'  refers  to  Dr.  Jenner,  and  the 
honor  and  influence  which  he  acquired  by  the  discovery  of  the  protective  effect  of  vaccination,  and 
says, '  It  is  true  that  Bonaparte,  in  the  plenitude  of  his  power,  accorded  their  freedom  from  bond- 
age to  no  less  than  nine  captives,  severally,  at  the  request  of  Dr.  Jenner,  a  homage  to  the  benevo- 
lent author  of  so  important  a  discovery.'  I  will  add  only  one  query  :  Would  George  IV.  or  George 
III.  have  done  "unh  magnanimous  acts!" 


1806.]  JENA  AND  AUERSTADT.  503 

gether."  Again  he  said,  "Fame  had  informed  me  of  his  talents.  I  found 
that  he  possessed  a  noble  character,  a  good  heart,  liberal,  generous,  and  en- 
lightened views.  I  considered  him  an  ornament  to  mankind,  and  was  very 
much  attached  to  him.  And  again  he  remarked,  "  Certainly  the  death  of 
Fox  was  one  of  the  fatalities  of  my  career.  Had  his  life  been  prolonged,  af- 
fairs would  have  taken  a  totally  different  turn.  The  cause  of  the  people 
would  have  triumphed,  and  we  should  have  established  a  new  order  of  things 
in  Europe."* 


CHAPTER  XXXIII. 

JENA     AND     AUERSTADT. 

A  new  Coalition  formed  against  France — Remarks  in  the  Moniteur — The  two  antagonistic  Forces 
existing  in  Europe — Letter  to  the  King  of  Prussia — Ascent  of  the  Landgrafenberg — Perfidy  of 
Spain — Intercepted  Dispatches — Battles  of  Jena  and  Auerstadt — Peril  of  the  Prussian  King — 
Amazing  Victory  of  Napoleon — Address  to  the  Saxons — The  Duchess  of  Weimar — Opinion  of 
Women — Sword  of  Frederick  the  Great — Letters  to  Josephine. 

AND  now  England,  Russia,  and  Prussia  formed  another  coalition  against 
Napoleon.  There  was  even  no  plausible  pretext  to  be  urged  in  extenuation 
of  the  war.  Napoleon  was  consecrating  all  his  energies  to  the  promotion  of 
the  best  interests  of  France.  For  the  accomplishment  of  his  noble  purposes 
he  needed  peace.  In  his  vast  conquests  he  had  shown  the  most  singular 
moderation — a  moderation  which  ought  to  have  put  England,  Russia,  and 
Prussia  to  the  blush.  To  the  following  remarks  in  the  Moniteur — evidently 
from  the  powerful  pen  of  Napoleon — Europe  could  make  no  reply  but  by  the 
charges  of  her  squadrons  and  by  the  broadsides  of  her  fleets. 

"  Why  should  hostilities  arise  between  France  and  Russia  ?  Perfectly  in- 
dependent of  each  other,  they  are  impotent  to  inflict  evil,  but  all-powerful  to 
communicate  benefits.  If  the  Emperor  of  France  exercises  a  great  influence 
in  Italy,  the  Czar  exerts  a  still  greater  influence  over  Turkey  and  Persia. 
If  the  cabinet  of  Russia  pretends  to  have  a  right  to  affix  limits  to  the  power 
of  France,  without  doubt  it  is  equally  disposed  to  allow  the  Emperor  of  the 
French  to  prescribe  the  bounds  beyond  which  Russia  is  not  to  pass.  Russia 
has  partitioned  Poland.  Can  she  then  complain  that  France  possesses  Bel- 
gium and  the  left  banks  of  the  Rhine  ?  Russia  has  seized  upon  Crimea,  the 
Caucasus,  and  the  northern  provinces  of  Persia.  Can  she  deny  that  the 
right  of  self-preservation  gives  France  a  title  to  demand  an  equivalent  in  Eu- 

*  "  While  Mr.  Pitt  lived,"  says  Hazlitt,  "  war  was  certain  ;  his  death  offered  a  bare  chance  of 
peace.  He  had  long  been  the  mouthpiece  of  the  war  party,  and  the  darling  of  that  part  of  the  ar- 
istocracy who  wished  to  subdue  the  popular  spirit  of  English  freedom  to  get  the  whole  power  of 
the  country  into  the  hands  of  a  few  borough-mongers,  and,  of  course,  to  crush  and  stifle  the  ex- 
ample and  the  rising  flame  of  liberty  every  where  else.  Engaged  in  a  quarrel  that  was  never  to 
have  an  end,  and  for  an  object  that  was  to  be  kept  in  the  background,  it  was  necessary  to  have  a 
set  of  plausible  excuses  always  ready.  If  we  were  at  war,  it  was  for  '  the  existence  of  social  order* 
If  we  did  not  make  peace,  it  was  because  'existing  circumstances  did  not  permit  us.' 

"  While  Fox  held  the  reins,  hopes  continued  to  be  entertained  of  peace,  and  Bonaparte,  with 
Talleyrand  to  assist  him,  strained  every  nerve  to  urge  it  forward,  but  at  his  death  things  reverted 
to  their  old  and  natural  course." 


504  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.  [CHAP.  XXXIII. 

rope  ?  Let  every  power  begin  by  restoring  the  conquests  which  it  has  made 
during  the  last  fifty  years.  Let  them  re-establish  Poland,  restore  Venice  to 
its  Senate,  Trinidad  to  Spain,  Ceylon  to  Holland,  the  Crimea  to  the  Porte, 
the  Caucasus  and  Georgia  to  Persia,  the  kingdom  of  Mysore  to  the  sons  of 
Tippoo  Saib,  and  the  Mahratta  States  to  their  lawful  owners,  and  then  the 
other  powers  may  have  some  title  to  insist  that  France  shall  retire  within 
her  ancient  limits.  It  is  the  fashion  to  speak  of  the  ambition  of  France. 
Had  she  chosen  to  preserve  her  conquests,  the  half  of  Austria,  the  Venetian 
States,  the  states  of  Holland  and  Switzerland,  and  the  kingdom  of  Naples 
would  have  been  in  her  possession.  The  limits  of  France  are,  in  reality,  the 
Adige  and  the  Rhine.  Has  it  passed  either  of  these  limits  ?  Had  it  fixed 
on  the  Solza  and  the  Drave,  it  would  not  have  exceeded  the  bounds  of  its 
conquest." 

When  Napoleon  was  endeavoring  to  surround  General  Mack  at  Ulm,  it 
was  absolutely  essential  to  the  success  of  his  enterprise  that  he  should  send 
a  few  battalions  across  the  little  state  of  Anspach,  which  belonged  to  Prus- 
sia. To  Bernadotte,  who  had  charge  of  this  division,  he  wrote : 

"  You  will  traverse  the  territory  of  Anspach.  Avoid  resting  there.  Do 
every  thing  in  your  power  to  conciliate  the  Prussians.  Testify  the  greatest 
possible  regard  for  the  interests  of  Prussia.  In  the  mean  time,  pursue  your 
march  with  the  utmost  rapidity,  alleging  as  an  excuse  the  impossibility  of 
doing  otherwise,  which  is  really  the  fact." 

At  the  same  time,  he  dispatched  the  Grand  Marshal  Duroc  to  Berlin  to  ap- 
prise the  King  of  Prussia  of  the  critical  situation  in  which  he  was  placed  by 
an  attack  from  so  formidable  an  alliance,  without  any  previous  declaration 
of  war ;  to  express  his  unfeigned  regret  at  the  necessity  of  marching  some 
troops  over  a  portion  of  the  Prussian  territory ;  and  to  excuse  himself  upon 
the  ground  of  absolute  necessity  alone.  Though  the  king  rather  ungracious- 
ly accepted  the  apology,  the  more  warlike  portion  of  the  nation,  headed  by 
their  chivalric  queen,  loudly  declared  that  this  violation  was  an  outrage  which 
could  only  be  avenged  by  the  sword.  This  was  one  of  the  grievances  of 
which  Prussia  now  complained. 

There  were  then,  as  now,  in  Europe  two  great  antagonistic  forces — the 
governors  and  the  governed — the  aristocracy  and  the  people.  The  triumph 
of  Napoleon  was  the  triumph  of  popular  rights.  Alexander,  young,  ambi- 
tious, and  the  monarch  of  the  uncounted  millions  of  Russia,  was  anxious  to 
wipe  out  the  stain  of  Austerlitz.  Prussia,  proud  of  her  past  military  glory, 
and  stimulated  by  an  enthusiastic  and  romantic  queen,  resolved  to  measure 
swords  with  the  great  conqueror.  England,  burdened  with  the  grasp  of  two 
hemispheres,  reiterated  her  cry  against  "the  insatiable  ambition  of  Napo- 
leon." 

The  armies  of  Prussia,  nearly  200,000  strong,  commenced  their  march 
against  France,  and  entered  the  heart  of  Saxony.  Frederick  William,  the 
King  of  Prussia,  headed  this  army,  and  compelled  the  King  of  Saxony  to 
join  the  alliance.  "  Our  cause,"  he  said,  "  is  the  common  cause  of  legiti- 
mate kings,  and  all  such  must  aid  in  the  enterprise."  Alexander,  having 
aroused  anew  his  barbarian  legions,  was  hastening  by  forced  marches  over 
the  wilds  of  Poland.  Two  hundred  thousand  men  were  in  his  train,  to  join 


1806.]  JENA  AND  AUERSTADT.  505 

the  invading  host  in  their  march  upon  Paris.  England,  with  her  omnipres- 
ent and  invincible  fleet,  was  frowning  along  the  shores  of  the  Mediterranean 
and  of  the  Channel,  raining  down  terrific  blows  upon  every  exposed  point, 
and  striving,  by  her  political  influence  and  her  gold,  to  unite  new  nations  in 
the  formidable  coalition. 

With  deep  sorrow  Napoleon  beheld  the  rising  of  this  new  storm.  He  had 
just  completed  an  arduous  campaign  ;  he  had  treated  his  enemies  with  sur- 
passing magnanimity,  and  had  hoped  that  a  permanent  peace  was  secured. 
But  no  sooner  was  one  coalition  destroyed  than  another  was  formed.  His 
energetic  spirit,  however,  was  not  one  to  yield  to  despondency.  Throwing 
off  the  dejection  which  for  an  hour  oppressed  him,  with  all  his  wonted  power 
and  genius  he  roused  himself  for  the  new  conflict.  He  wrote  to  his  brothers 
in  Naples  and  in  Holland,  saying, 

"  Give  yourselves  no  uneasiness.  The  present  struggle  will  be  speedily 
terminated.  Prussia  and  her  allies,  be  they  who  they  may,  will  be  crushed. 
And  this  time  I  will  settle  finally  with  Europe.  1  will  put  it  out  of  the  power 
of  my  enemies  to  stir  for  ten  years" 

He  shut  himself  up  for  forty-eight  hours  to  form  his  plans  and  arrange  the 
details.  He  then  for  two  days  dictated,  almost  without  intermission,  nearly 
two  hundred  letters. 

All  these  letters  are  preserved.  Through  all  time  they  will  be  admired  as 
models  of  the  art  of  governing  armies  and  empires.  In  six  days  the  Impe- 
rial Guard  were  sent  from  Paris  to  the  Rhine.  They  traveled  by  post  sixty 
miles  a  day.  It  was  nearly  midnight  on  the  24th  of  September,  1806,  when 
Napoleon,  accompanied  by  Josephine,  entered  his  carriage  at  the  Tuileries 
to  join  the  army.  As  in  the  last  contest,  he  knew  not  "  why  he  fought,  or 
what  was  required  of  him."  He  communicated  a  parting  message  to  the 
Senate,  in  which  he  said  : 

"  In  so  just  a  war,  which  we  have  not  provoked  by  any  act,  by  any  pre- 
tense, the  true  cause  of  which  it  would  be  impossible  to  assign,  and  where 
we  only  take  arms  to  defend  ourselves,  we  depend  entirely  upon  the  support 
of  the  laws,  and  upon  that  of  the  people,  whom  circumstances  call  upon  to 
give  fresh  proofs  of  their  devotion  and  courage." 

In  his  first  bulletin  he  wrote,  "  The  Queen  of  Prussia  is  with  the  army, 
dressed  as  an  Amazon,  bearing  the  uniform  of  her  regiment  of  dragoons,  writ- 
ing twenty  letters  a  day  to  spread  the  conflagration  in  all  directions.  We 
seem  to  behold  Armida  in  her  madness  setting  fire  to  her  own  palace.  Af- 
ter her  follow  Prince  Louis  of  Prussia,  a  prince  full  of  bravery,  hurried  on 
by  the  spirit  of  party,  who  flatters  himself  that  he  shall  find  great  renown  in 
the  vicissitudes  of  war.  Following  the  example  of  these  illustrious  persons, 
all  the  court  cries  '  To  arms  !'  But  when  war  shall  have  reached  them  with 
all  its  horrors,  all  will  seek  to  exculpate  themselves  from  having  been  in- 
strumental in  bringing  its  thunder  to  the  peaceful  plains  of  the  north." 

At  Mayence  Napoleon  parted  with  Josephine.  Her  tears  for  a  moment 
overcame  him,  and  he  yielded  to  those  emotions  of  tenderness  which  are  an 
honor  to  the  heart.  He  headed  his  army,  utterly  bewildered  the  Prussians 
by  his  maneuvers,  and  in  a  few  days  threw  his  whole  force  into  their  rear, 
cutting  them  off  from  all  their  supplies  and  from  all  possibility  of  retreat. 


506  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.  [CHAP.  XXXIIL 

He  was  now  sure  of  a  decisive  victory ;  yet,  to  arrest,  if  possible,  the  effusion 
of  blood,  he  humanely  wrote  as  follows  to  the  King  of  Prussia  : 

"  I  am  now  in  th,e  heart  of  Saxony.  Believe  me,  my  strength  is  such  that 
your  forces  can  not  long  balance  the  victory.  But  wherefore  shed  so  much 
blood?  To  what  purpose?  Why  should  we  make  our  subjects  slay  each 
other  ?  I  do  not  prize  a  victory  which  is  purchased  by  the  lives  of  so  many 
of  my  children.  If  I  were  just  commencing  my  military  career,  and  if  I  had 
any  reason  to  fear  the  chances  of  war,  this  language  would  be  wholly  mis- 
placed. Sire!  your  majesty  will  be  vanquished.  You  will  have  compro- 
mised the  repose  of  your  life  and  the  existence  of  your  subjects  without  the 
shadow  of  a  pretext.  At  present  you  are  uninjured,  and  may  treat  with  me 
in  a  manner  conformable  with  your  rank.  Before  a  month  has  passed  you 
will  treat,  but  in  a  different  position.  I  am  aware  that  I  may,  in  thus  writ- 
ing, irritate  that  sensibility  which  naturally  belongs  to  every  sovereign.  But 
circumstances  demand  that  I  should  use  no  concealment.  I  implore  your 
majesty  to  view  in  this  letter  nothing  but  the  desire  I  have  to  spare  the  effu- 
sion of  human  blood.  Sire,  my  brother,  I  pray  God  that  he  may  have  you 
in  his  worthy  and  holy  keeping. 

"  Your  majesty's  good  brother,  NAPOLEON." 

To  this  letter  no  reply  was  returned.  It  was  given  to  a  Prussian  officer, 
but  it  is  said  that  the  King  did  not  receive  it  until  the  morning  of  the 
battle  of  Jena. 

In  two  days,  Napoleon,  accompanying  the  advance  guard  of  his  army,  met 
the  mighty  host  of  the  Prussians  strongly  fortified  upon  the  fields  of  Jena 
and  Auerstadt.  It  was  the  evening  of  the  thirteenth  of  October.  A  cloud- 
less sun,  filling  the  western  sky  with  splendor,  dazzled  the  eye  with  brilliance 
as  its  rays  were  reflected  from  the  armor  of  one  hundred  thousand  men. 
Eighteen  thousand  superb  cavalry,  with  their  burnished  helmets  and  proud 
caparisons,  were  drawn  up  upon  the  plain.  Three  hundred  pieces  of  heavy 
artillery  were  concentrated  in  a  battery,  whose  destructive  power  imagina- 
tion can  hardly  conceive.  The  advanced  posts  of  the  Prussians  were  sta- 
tioned upon  the  Landgrafenberg,  a  high  and  steep  hill,  wrhose  summit  was 
deemed  inaccessible  to  artillery.  Napoleon  immediately  drove  them  from 
the  hill  and  took  possession.  From  its  brow  the  whole  lines  of  the  Prussian 
army  could  be  descried,  extending  for  many  leagues. 

The  plain  of  Auerstadt,  twelve  miles  distant,  was  however  lost  from  the 
view.  Napoleon  was  not  aware  that  a  strong  division  of  the  Prussian  army 
occupied  that  position.  The  shades  of  night  came  on.  The  blaze  from  the 
Prussian  fires,  dispersed  over  a  space  of  eighteen  miles,  threw  a  brilliant 
glow  over  the  whole  heavens.  Couriers  were  immediately  dispatched  to 
hasten  on  with  all  possible  speed  the  battalions  of  the  French  army  for  the 
decisive  battle  which  the  morning  sun  was  to  usher  in.  Napoleon  was  his 
own  engineer  in  surmounting  the  difficulties  of  dragging  the  cannon  to  the 
summit  of  the  Landgrafenberg.  To  encourage  the  men  to  herculean  toil, 
Napoleon,  by  the  light  of  the  lantern,  worked  with  his  own  hands  in  blast- 
ing the  rock,<=  and  smoothing  the  way.  With  incredible  enthusiasm,  the  sue- 


1806.] 


JENA  AND  AUERSTADT. 


507 


cessive  divisions  of  the  French  as  they  arrived  engaged  in  overcoming  those 
obstacles  which  to  the  Prussians  had  appeared  absolutely  insurmountable. 
Napoleon,  having  prepared  the  way,  and  aided  in  dragging  one  gun  to  the 
summit,  left  his  troops  to  do  the  rest.  Through  the  long  night  they  toiled 
unceasingly,  and  before  the  morning  dawned  a  formidable  battery  was  brist- 
ling from  the  heights. 


ASCENT    OF    THE    LANDGRAFENBERO. 


As  battalion  after  battalion  arrived  in  the  darkness,  they  took  the  positions 
designated  by  their  experienced  chieftain,  and  threw  themselves  upon  the 
ground  for  sleep.  Soult  and  Ney  received  orders  to  march  all  night,  to  be 
prepared  to  arrest  the  retreat  of  the  Prussians.  Napoleon,  having  thus  made 
all  his  arrangements  for  the  terrific  conflict  of  the  ensuing  day,  retired  to  his 


508 


NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE. 


[CHAP.  XXXIIL 

tent  about  midnight,  and  calmly  sat  down  to  draw  up  a  plan  of  study  and  of 
discipline  for  Madame  Campari's  Female  School* 

Nothing  can  more  strikingly  show  than  this  the  peculiar  organization  of 
this  most  extraordinary  mind.  There  was  no  affectation  in  this  effort.  He 
could,  at  any  time,  turn  from  one  subject,  however  momentous  that  might 
be,  and  consecrate  all  his  energies  to  another,  untroubled  by  a  wandering 
thought.  All  that  he  did  for  the  internal  improvement  of  France,  he  was 
compelled  to  do  in  moments  thus  snatched  from  the  toils  of  war.  Combined 
Europe  would  never  allow  him  to  lay  aside  the  sword.  "France,"  said 
Napoleon,  "needs  nothing  so  much  to  promote  her  regeneration  as  good 
mothers."  His  heart  was  deeply  interested  in  promoting  the  prosperity  and 
happiness  of  France.  To  the  sanguinary  scenes  of  Jena  and  Auerstadt  he 
was  reluctantly  driven  by  the  attacks  of  foes,  who  denounced  him  as  a 
usurper,  and  threatened  to  hurl  him  from  his  throne. 


JENA    AND    AUERSTADT. 


It  was  midnight.  A  girdle  of  flame,  rising  from  the  innumerable  watch* 
fires  of  the  Prussian  hosts,  blazed  along  the  horizon  as  far  as  the  eye  could 
extend,  almost  encircling  the  troops  of  the  Emperor.  The  cold  winds  of 
approaching  winter  swept  the  bleak  summit  of  the  Landgrafenberg.  Wrap- 
ped in  his  cloak,  he  had  thrown  himself  upon  the  ground,  to  share  for  an 
hour  the  frigid  bivouac  of  his  soldiers.  He  was  far  from  home.  The  fate 
of  his  empire  depended  perhaps  upon  the  struggle  of  the  ensuing  day.  En- 
gland, Russia,  Prussia,  the  three  most  powerful  monarchies  upon  the  globe, 
were  banded  against  him.  If  defeated  on  the  morrow,  Austria,  Sweden,  and 
all  the  minor  monarchies  would  fall  upon  the  Republican  Emperor,  and  secure 
his  utter  destruction. 

In  that  gloomy  hour,  intercepted  dispatches  of  the  utmost  importance  were 

*  Count  Pelet  de  Lozerne  assigns  this  event  to  the  eve  of  the  battle  of  Austerlitz.  In  eithei 
case,  it  alike  illustrate!  a  well-known  peculiarity  in  the  character  of  Napoleon. 


1806.]  JENA  AND  AUERSTADT.  50g 

placed  in  the  hands  of  Napoleon.  He  roused  himself  from  his  slumber,  and 
read  them  by  the  light  of  the  camp-fire.  The  Bourbons  of  Spain,  admon- 
ished by  the  defeat  of  Trafalgar,  had  decided  that  England  would  be  for 
them  a  safer  ally  than  France.  While  professing  cordial  friendship  for  Na- 
poleon, they  were  entering  into  secret  alliance  with  England.  Taking  ad- 
vantage of  Napoleon's  absence  from  France,  and  trusting  that  he  would  en- 
counter defeat  far  away  in  the  heart  of  Prussia,  they  were  treacherously  pre- 
paring to  cross  the  Pyrenees,  and,  in  alliance  with  England,  to  attack  him  in 
his  rear.  Napoleon  certainly  was  not  one  of  the  meekest  of  men.  The 
perusal  of  these  documents  convinced  him  that  he  could  enjoy  no  security 
while  the  Bourbons  sat  upon  the  throne  of  Spain.  They  would  avail  them- 
selves of  every  opportunity  to  attack  him  in  the  dark.  As  he  folded  up  these 
proofs  of  their  perfidy,  he  calmly  remarked,  "  The  Bourbons  of  Spain  shall 
be  replaced  by  princes  of  my  own  family."  From  that  hour  the  doom  of  the 
Spanish  house  of  Bourbon  was  sealed. 

Napoleon  wrapped  himself  again  in  his  cloak,  threw  himself  upon  the 
ground  with  his  feet  toward  the  fire,  and  slept  as  serenely  as  if  he  were  re- 
posing upon  the  imperial  couch  of  St.  Cloud. 

At  about  four  o'clock  in  the  morning  he  was  again  on  horseback.  A  dense 
fog  enveloped  the  plains,  shrouding  with  impenetrable  obscurity  the  sleep- 
ing hosts.  Under  cover  of  the  darkness  and  the  thick  vapor,  the  French 
army  was  ranged  in  battle  array.  Enthusiastic  shouts  of  "  Vive  1'Empereur !" 
greeted  Napoleon  as  he  rode  along  their  lines.  The  soldiers,  benumbed  with 
cold,  and  shivering  in  their  ranks,  waited  impatiently  two  hours  for  the  sig- 
nal of  attack.  At  six  o'clock  the  order  to  advance  was  given.  In  solid  col- 
umns, through  the  gray  mist  of  the  morning,  the  French  pierced  the  Prussian 
lines  in  every  direction. 

Then  ensued  a  scene  of  horror  which  no  pen  can  describe,  which  no  im- 
agination can  conceive.  For  eight  hours  the  battle  raged  as  if  demon  with 
demon  contended — the  soldiers  of  Napoleon  and  the  marshaled  host  trained 
in  the  school  of  Frederick  the  Great !  It  was  indeed  "  Greek  meeting 
Greek."  The  ground  was  covered  with  the  slain.  The  shrieks  of  the 
wounded,  trampled  beneath  the  hoofs  of  charging  cavalry,  the  shout  of  onset, 
as  the  pursuers  cut  down  and  rode  over  the  pursued,  rose  in  hideous  clamor 
even  above  the  ceaseless  thunders  of  the  battle.  The  victory  wavered  to 
and  fro.  About  midday  the  Prussian  general  felt  that  the  victory  was  his. 
He  dispatched  an  order  to  one  of  his  generals, 

"  Send  all  the  force  you  can  to  the  chief  point  of  attack.  At  this  moment 
we  beat  the  enemy  at  all  points.  My  cavalry  has  captured  some  of  his  can- 
non." A  few  hours  later  he  sent  the  following  almost  frantic  dispatch  to  his 
reserve  : 

"  Lose  not  a  moment  in  advancing  with  your  yet  unbroken  troops.  Ar- 
range your  columns  so  that  through  their  openings  there  may  pass  the  broken 
bands  of  the  battle.  Be  ready  to  receive  the  charges  of  the  enemy's  cavalry, 
which  in  the  most  furious  manner  rides  on,  overwhelms,  and  sabres  the  fugi- 
tives, and  has  driven  into  one  confused  mass  the  infantry,  cavalry,  and  ar- 
tillery." 

In  the  midst  of  this  appalling  scene,  so  graphically  described,  the  Prussian 
VOL.  II.— O 


510 


NAPOLEON   BONAPARTE. 


[CHAP.  XXXIII. 


reserve,  twenty  thousand  strong,  with  firm  tread  and  unbroken  front,  emerged 
through  the  cloud  of  fugitives  to  stem  the  awful  torrent.  For  a  moment  they 
seemed  to  restore  the  battle.  Napoleon  stood  upon  the  summit  of  the  Land- 
grafenberg,  calm,  serene,  passionless,  watching  every  portion  of  the  extended 
(field,  and  guiding  the  terrific  elements  of  destruction.  The  Imperial  Guard, 
held  in  reserve,  waited  hour  after  hour,  looking  upon  the  carnage  before  them, 
burning  with  intense  zeal  to  share  in  the  conflict.  At  last  a  young  soldier,1 
in  the  excess  of  his  almost  delirious  excitement,  shouted,  "  Forward,  for- 
ward !"  "  How  now  ?"  exclaimed  Napoleon,  sternly,  as  he  turned  his  eye  to- 
ward him.  "  What  beardless  boy  is  this,  who  ventures  to  counsel  his  Em- 
peror ?  Let  him  wait  till  he  has  commanded  in  thirty  pitched  battles  before 
he  proffers  his  advice  !" 


NAPOLEON   AND   HIS   OUAHD. 


It  was  now  nearly  four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon.  Napoleon  saw  that  the 
decisive  moment  had  arrived.  He  ordered  Murat,  with  twelve  thousand 
horse,  fresh  and  in  the  finest  array,  to  charge  the  bewildered,  wavering,  bleed- 
ing host,  and  complete  the  victory.  The  clatter  of  iron  hoofs  was  heard 
resounding  like  the  roar  of  an  earthquake  as  this  terrible  and  irresistible 
mass  swept  with  overwhelming  destruction  upon  the  plain.  The  work  was 
done.  The  Prussian  army  was  destroyed.  Humanity  vails  her  weeping 
eyes  from  the  appalling  scene  which  ensued.  It  was  no  longer  a  battle,  but 
a  massacre.  All  order  was  lost,  as  the  whole  army,  like  an  inundation, 
rushed  from  the  field.  The  batteries  of  Napoleon  plowed  their  ranks  in 
every  direction.  The  musketry  of  Napoleon's  solid  columns  pierced  them 
through  and  through  with  a  pitiless  storm  of  bullets.  Twelve  thousand 
horsemen,  mounted  on  powerful  and  unwearied  steeds,  rode  over  and  tram- 
pled down  the  confused  mass,  and  their  sabres  dripped  with  blood.  The 


JENA  AND  AUERSTAUT. 


511 


1806. J 

wretched  victims  of  war,  in  their  frantic  attempts  to  escape,  found  their  re- 
treat every  where  cut  off  by  the  terrible  genius  of  the  conqueror.  They 
were  headed  here  and  there,  and  driven  back  upon  themselves  in  refluent 
waves  of  blood  and  destruction. 


CAVALRY    CHARGE. 


While  this  scene  was  transpiring  upon  the  plains  of  Jena,  the  Prussians 
were  encountering  a  similar  disaster  upon  the  field  of  Auerstadt,  but  twelve 
miles  distant.  As  the  fugitives  of  both  armies  met  in  their  flight  and  were 
entangled  in  the  crowded  roads,  while  bullets,  and  grape-shot,  and  cannon- 
balls,  and  bomb-shells  were  falling  like  hailstones  and  thunderbolts  upon 
them,  consternation  unutterable  seized  all  hearts.  In  wild  dismay  they  dis- 


512  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.  [CHAP.  XXXIII. 

banded,  and,  throwing  down  their  arms  and  forsaking  their  guns,  their  horses, 
and  their  ammunition  wagons,  they  fled,  a  rabble  rout,  across  the  fields,  with- 
out direction  and  without  a  rallying  point.  But  Murat,  with  his  twelve 
thousand  horsemen,  was  in  the  midst  of  them,  and  their  mangled  corpses 
strewed  the  plain. 

Darkness  came.  It  brought  no  relief  to  the  vanquished.  The  pitiless 
pursuit  was  uninterrupted.  Not  one  moment  was  allowred  the  foe  to  rally 
or  to  rest.  In  every  direction  the  fugitives  found  the  divisions  of  Napoleon 
before  them.  The  king  himself  narrowly  escaped  being  taken  prisoner  dur- 
ing the  tumult  and  the  horror  of  that  disastrous  rout.  He  had  fled  in  the 
midst  of  the  wreck  of  his  army  from  the  field  of  Auerstadt.  Accompanied 
by  a  few  companions  on  horseback,  he  leaped  hedges  and  fences,  and,  in  the 
gloom  of  night,  plunged  through  field  and  forest.  It  was  five  o'clock  in  the 
morning  before  he  succeeded,  by  circuitous  routes  and  through  by-paths,  in 
reaching  a  place  of  safety. 

The  Prussians  lost,  during  this  disastrous  day,  twenty  thousand  in  killed 
and  wounded,  and  twenty  thousand  were  taken  prisoners.  Napoleon,  ac- 
cording to  his  custom,  having  dispatched  his  various  generals  in  pursuit  of 
the  vanquished,  passed  most  of  the  night  upon  the  field  of  battle,  personally 
superintending  the  care  of  the  wounded.  With  his  own  hand  he  held  the 
cup  of  water  to  their  lips,  and  soothed  their  dying  agonies  with  his  sympathy. 
With  his  iron  firmness  he  united  a  heart  of  great  tenderness  No  possible 
efforts  were  spared  to  promote  their  comfort.  He  sent  Duroc  in  the  morn- 
ing to  the  crowded  hospitals  of  Jena,  to  convey  his  sympathy  to  every  man 
individually  of  the  wounded  there,  to  distribute  money  to  those  who  needed 
it,  and  to  assure  all  of  munificent  rewards.  As  the  letter  of  the  Emperor 
was  read  to  these  unfortunate  men,  forgetting  their  sufferings,  they  shouted 
"  Vive  1'Empereur  !"  Mangled  and  bleeding,  they  expressed  the  desire  to 
recover  that  they  might  again  devote  their  lives  to  him. 

Napoleon,  with  his  accustomed  magnanimity,  ever  attributing  great  praise 
to  his  officers  and  soldiers,  most  signally  rewarded  Davoust  for  his  heroism 
at  Auerstadt.  In  his  official  account  of  the  battle,  he  stated, 

"  On  our  right  the  corps  of  Marshal  Davoust  performed  prodigies.  Not 
only  did  he  keep  the  enemy  in  check,  but  pursued  the  bulk  of  his  forces  over 
a  space  of  three  leagues.  That  marshal  has  displayed  alike  the  distinguish- 
ed bravery  and  firmness  of  character  which  are  the  first  qualities  of  a  soldier." 

For  his  dauntless  intrepidity  on  this  occasion  he  created  him  Duke  of 
Auerstadt.  To  honor  him  still  more,  he  appointed  him  to  enter  first  the 
Prussian  capital,  thus  giving  him  precedence  in  the  sight  of  the  whole  army. 
Two  weeks  afterward  he  called  his  officers  around  him,  and  addressed  them 
'*n  the  highest  terms  of  respect  and  admiration.  Davoust  stepped  forward 
and  said,  "  Sire  !  the  soldiers  of  the  third  corps  will  always  be  to  you  what 
the  tenth  legion  was  to  Caesar." 

Immediately  Napoleon  took  measures  for  following  up  his  victory  with 
that  activity  and  skill  which  no  other  captain  has  ever  equaled.  In  less  than 
fourteen  days  every  remnant  of  the  Prussian  army  was  taken,  and  all  the 
fortresses  of  Prussia  were  in  the  hands  of  the  French.  The  fugitive  king, 
with  a  few  companions,  had  fled  to  the  confines  of  Russia,  there  to  await  the 


1806.]  JENA  AND  AUERSTADT.  5^3 

approach  of  the  armies  of  Alexander.  Prussia  was  struck  as  by  a  thunder- 
bolt. Never  before  in  the  history  of  the  world  was  such  a  power  so  speed- 
ily and  so  utterly  annihilated.  It  was  but  one  month  after  Napoleon  had  left 
Paris,  and  the  work  was  all  done  —  an  army  of  two  hundred  thousand  men 
killed,  taken  prisoners,  or  dispersed — innumerable  fortresses,  which  had  been 
deemed  impregnable,  and  upon  which  had  been  lavished  the  wealth  of  ages, 
had  been  compelled  to  capitulate,  and  Napoleon  was  reposing  at  Berlin  in 
the  palace  of  the  Prussian  king.  Europe  heard  the  tidings  with  amazement 
and  dismay.  It  seemed  more  like  the  unnatural  fiction  of  an  Arabian  tale 
than  like  historic  verity.  "  In  assailing  this  man,"  said  the  Emperor  Alex- 
ander, "  we  are  but  children  attacking  a  giant." 

The  King  of  Saxony  had  been  compelled  to  join  Prussia  against  France. 
In  these  wars  of  Europe,  sad  is  the  fate  of  the  minor  powers.  They  must 
unite  with  one  party  or  the  other.  Napoleon  had  taken  a  large  number  of 
Saxon  prisoners.  The  day  after  the  great  battle  of  Jena,  he  assembled  the 
captive  officers  in  one  of  the  halls  of  the  University  at  Jena.  In  frank  and 
conciliating  words,  he  thus  addressed  them  : 

"  I  know  not  why  I  am  at  war  with  your  sovereign.  He  is  a  wise,  pacific 
prince,  deserving  of  respect.  I  wish  to  see  your  country  rescued  from  its 
humiliating  dependence  upon  Prussia.  Why  should  the  Saxons  and  the 
French,  with  no  motives  for  hostility,  fight  against  each  other  ?  I  am  ready, 
on  my  part,  to  give  a  pledge  of  my  amicable  disposition  by  setting  you  all 
at  liberty,  and  by  sparing  Saxony.  All  I  require  of  you  is  your  promise  no 
more  to  bear  arms  against  France." 

The  Saxon  officers  were  seized  with  admiration  as  they  listened  to  a  prop- 
osition so  friendly  and  generous  from  the  lips  of  this  extraordinary  man.  By 
acclamation  they  bound  themselves  to  serve  against  him  no  more.  They 
set  out  for  Dresden,  declaring  that  in  three  days  they  would  bring  back  the 
friendship  of  their  sovereign. 

The  Elector  of  Hesse  was  one  of  the  vilest  of  men,  and  one  of  the  most 
absolute  and  unrelenting  of  despots.  He  had  an  army  of  32,000  men.  He 
had  done  every  thing  in  his  power  to  provoke  the  war,  and  was  devoted  to 
the  English,  by  whom  he  was  despised.  Alexander,  with  nearly  200,000 
chosen  troops,  was  pressing  down  through  the  plains  of  Poland,  to  try  his 
strength  again  with  the  armies  of  France.  Napoleon  resolved  to  meet  the 
Czar  at  the  half  way.  It  was  not  safe  for  him  to  leave  in  his  rear  so  form- 
idable a  force  in  the  hands  of  this  treacherous  prince.  Marshal  Mortier 
was  charged  to  declare  that  the  Elector  of  Hesse  had  ceased  to  reign,  to 
take  possession  of  his  dominions  in  the  name  of  France,  and  to  disband  his 
army. 

The  Grand  Duke  of  Weimar  had  command  of  a  division  of  the  Prussian 
army.  His  wife  was  sister  of  the  Emperor  Alexander  She  had  contributed 
all  her  influence  to  instigate  the  war.  Napoleon  entered  Weimar.  It  was 
a  refined  and  intellectual  city,  the  Athens  of  modern  Germany,  and  honored 
by  the  residence  of  Goethe,  Schiller,  and  Wieland.  Contending  armies,  in 
frightful  clamor  and  carnage,  had  surged  through  its  streets,  as  pursuers  and 
pursued  had  rushed  pell-mell  in  at  its  gates  from  the  dreadful  fields  of  Jena 
and  Auerstadt.  The  houses  were  pierced  and  shattered  by  shells  and  balls, 


514  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.  [CHAP.  XXXIII. 

and  the  pavements  were  slippery  with  blood.     The  Grand  Duchess,  greatly 
agitated,  approached  Napoleon  to  implore  his  clemency. 

"  You  now  see,  madame,"  Napoleon  coolly  replied,  "  what  war  is." 

This  was  his  only  vengeance.  He  treated  his  female  foe  with  the  great- 
est courtesy,  expressed  no  displeasure  at  the  conduct  of  her  husband,  and 
ordered  especial  attention  to  be  paid  to  the  wounded  Prussians  with  which 
the  city  was  filled.  He  munificently  rewarded  a  Catholic  priest  for  his  un- 
wearied attentions  to  the  bleeding  Prussians. 

On  the  28th  of  October  Napoleon  made  a  triumphal  entry  into  Berlin,  and 
established  himself  in  the  king's  palace.  Prussia  had  provoked  the  war.  By 
the  right  of  conquest,  Prussia  now  belonged  to  Napoleon.  With  character- 
istic delicacy,  he  would  allow  no  one  to  occupy  the  private  apartments  of  the 
queen.  She  had  fled  in  the  utmost  haste,  leaving  all  her  letters  and  the  mys- 
teries of  a  lady's  boudoir  exposed.  He,  however,  in  his  bulletins,  spoke  with 
great  severity  of  the  queen.  She  had  exerted  all  her  powers  to  rouse  the 
nation  to  war.  On  horseback,  she  placed  herself  at  the  head  of  the  troops, 
and  fanned  to  the  highest  pitch,  by  her  beauty,  her  talents,  and  her  lofty 
spirit,  the  flame  of  military  enthusiasm.  His  sarcasms  on  queens  who  med- 
dle in  affairs  of  state,  and  who,  by  their  ignorance,  expose  their  husbands  to 
frightful  disasters,  and  their  country  to  the  horrible  ravages  of  war,  were 
generally  thought  ungenerous  toward  one  so  utterly  prostrate.  Napoleon, 
indignant  in  view  of  the  terrible  scene  of  carnage  and  woe  which  her  vanity 
had  caused,  reproached  her  in  one  of  his  bulletins  without  mercy.  Jose- 
phine, in  the  kindness  of  her  heart,  wrote  to  him  in  terms  of  remonstrance. 
Napoleon  thus  replied  : 

"  Nov  6,  1806,  9  o'clock  P.M. 

"  I  have  received  your  letter,  in  which,  it  seems,  you  reproach  me  for 
speaking  ill  of  women.  True  it  is,  that  above  all  things  I  dislike  female  in- 
triguers. I  have  been  accustomed  to  kind,  gentle,  conciliatory  women. 
Such  I  love,  and  if  they  have  spoiled  me,  it  is  not  my  fault,  but  yours.  How- 
ever, you  will  see  that  I  have  acted  indulgently  toward  one  sensible  and  de- 
serving woman.  I  allude  to  Madame  Hatzfeld.  When  I  showed  her  her 
husband's  letter,  she  burst  into  tears ;  and  in  a  tone  of  the  most  exquisite 
grief  and  candor,  exclaimed, '  It  is  indeed  his  writing  !'  This  was  too  much. 
It  went  to  my  heart.  I  said,  'Well,  madame,  throw  the  letter  into  the  fire, 
and  then  I  shall  have  no  proof  against  your  husband.'  She  burned  the  let- 
ter, and  was  restored  to  happiness.  Her  husband  is  now  safe.  Two  hours 
later,  and  he  would  have  been  lost.  You  see,  therefore,  that  I  like  women 
who  are  feminine,  unaffected,  and  amiable,  for  they  alone  resemble  you. 
Adieu,  my  love.  I  am  very  well.  NAPOLEON." 

The  occurrence  to  which  Napoleon  refers  was  this.  The  Prince  of  Hatz- 
feld was  governor  of  Berlin.  He  had  surrendered  the  city  to  Napoleon,  and 
promised  submission.  An  intercepted  letter  proved  that  he,  under  cover  of 
this  assumed  friendship,  was  acting  as  a  spy,  and  communicating  to  the  King 
of  Prussia  every  thing  of  importance  that  was  transpiring  in  Berlin.  He  had 
given  his  oath  that  he  would  attempt  nothing  against  the  French  army,  and 
would  attend  solely  to  the  quiet,  safety,  and  welfare  of  the  capital.  The 


1806.]  JENA  AND  AUERSTADT.  515 

prince  was  arrested,  and  ordered  to  appear  before  a  court-martial.  In  two 
hours  he  would  have  been  shot. 

His  wife,  in  a  delirium  of  terror,  threw  herself  in  tears  before  Napoleon, 
as  he  alighted  from  his  horse  at  the  gate  of  the  palace.  Napoleon  was  a 
tender-hearted  man.  "  I  never,"  said  he,  "  could  resist  a  woman's  tears." 
Deeply  touched  by  her  distress,  he  conducted  her  to  an  apartment.  A  hot 
fire  was  glowing  in  the  grate.  Napoleon  took  the  intercepted  letter,  and, 
handing  it  to  her,  said,  "  Madame,  is  not  that  the  handwriting  of  your  hus- 
band ?"  Trembling  and  confounded,  she  confessed  that  it  was.  "  It  is  now 
in  your  hands,"  said  Napoleon  ;  "  throw  it  into  the  fire,  and  there  will  no 
longer  remain  any  evidence  against  him."  The  lady,  half  dead  with  confu- 
sion and  terror,  knew  not  what  to  do.  Napoleon  took  the  paper  and  placed 
it  upon  the  fire.  As  it  disappeared  in  smoke  and  flame,  he  said  to  the  prin- 
cess, "Your  husband  is  now  safe.  There  is  no  proof  left  which  can  lead  to 
his  conviction."  This  act  of  clemency  has  ever  been  regarded  as  a  signal 
evidence  of  the  goodness  of  Napoleon's  heart.  The  safety  of  his  army 
seemed  to  require  that  something  should  be  done  to  intimidate  the  magis- 
trates of  the  several  towns,  who  were  also  revealing  the  secrets  of  his  opera- 
tions to  the  enemy. 

Napoleon  went  to  Potsdam  to  visit  the  tomb  of  Frederick  the  Great,  where 
the  Emperor  of  Eussia  and  the  King  of  Prussia  had,  but  a  year  before,  taken 
their  solemn  and  romantic  oath.  He  seemed  deeply  impressed  with  solem- 
nity as  he  stood  by  the  remains  of  this  man  of  heroic  energy  and  of  iron 
soul.  For  a  time  not  a  word  was  uttered.  The  sword  of  the  Prussian  mon- 
arch was  suspended  there.  Napoleon  took  it  down,  examined  it  very  care- 
fully, and  then  turning  thoughtfully  to  General  Rapp,  said, 

"  Did  you  know  that  the  Spanish  embassador  presented  me  with  the  sword 
of  Francis  I.  ?  The  Persian  embassador  also  gave  me  a  sabre  which  be- 
longed to  Gengis-Khan.  1  would  not  exchange  this  sword  of  Frederick  for 
four  millions  of  dollars.  I  will  send  it  to  the  governor  of  the  Invalides.  The 
old  soldiers  there  will  regard  with  religious  reverence  a  trophy  which  has  be- 
longed to  the  most  illustrious  captain  of  whom  history  makes  any  mention." 

General  Rapp  ventured  to  reply,  "  Were  I  in  your  place,  I  should  not  be 
willing  to  part  with  this  sword.  I  should  keep  it  for  myself." 

Napoleon  glanced  at  his  aid  a  very  peculiar  look,  half  reproachful,  half 
comical,  and  gently  pinching  his  ear,  said,  "Have  I  not  then  a  sword  of  my 
own,  Mr.  Giver  of  Advice  ?" 

In  1757,  the  armies  of  France  had  been  signally  defeated  upon  the  plain 
of  Rosbach  by  the  Prussians.  The  Prussian  government  had  erected  a 
monument  commemorative  of  the  victory.  Napoleon,  passing  over  the  field, 
turned  from  his  course  to  see  the  monument.  To  his  surprise,  he  found  it  a 
very  insignificant  affair.  The  inscription  on  the  soft  stone  had  been  entirely 
effaced  by  the  weather.  The  obelisk  was  hardly  more  imposing  than  a 
French  milestone.  In  perfect  silence,  he  contemplated  it  for  some  time, 
walking  slowly  around  it,  his  arms  folded  upon  his  breast,  and  then  said, 
"  This  is  contemptible — this  is  contemptible."  Just  then  a  division  of  the 
army  made  its  appearance.  "  Take  that  stone,"  said  he,  to  a  company  of 
sappers,  "  place  it  upon  a  cart,  and  send  it  to  Paris.  It  will  require  but  a  mo- 


516 


NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE. 


[CHAP.  XXXIII. 


NAPOLEON  AT  THE  TOMB  OF  FREDERICK  THE  GREAT. 


ment  to  remove  it."  Then  mounting  his  horse,  he  galloped  away.  For 
hoth  of  these  acts  Napoleon  has  been  severely  censured.  It  is  not  an  easy 
question  to  decide  what  are  the  lawful  trophies  of  war. 

When  Napoleon  left  the  capital  of  Austria,  on  his  return  to  France  after 
the  campaign  of  Austerlitz,  he  thus  addressed  the  citizens  of  Vienna  in  a 
final  adieu  :  "  In  leaving  you,  receive,  as  a  present,  evincing  my  esteem, 
your  arsenal  complete,  which  the  laws  of  war  had  rendered  my  property. 
Use  it  in  the  maintenance  of  order.  You  must  attribute  all  the  ills  you  have 
suffered  to  the  mishaps  inseparable  from  war.  All  the  improvements  which 
my  army  may  have  brought  into  your  country  you  owe  to  the  esteem  which 
you  have  merited." 

Napoleon,  in  a  month,  had  overturned  the  Prussian  monarchy,  destroyed 
its  armies,  and  conquered  its  territory.  The  cabinets  and  the  aristocracies 
of  Europe  were  overwhelmed  with  consternation.  Napoleon,  the  child  of 
the  Revolution,  and  the  propagator  of  the  doctrine  of  equal  rights  to  prince 
and  peasant,  was  humbling  into  the  dust  the  proudest  monarchies.  Every 
private  soldier  in  the  French  army  felt  that  all  the  avenues  of  wealth,  of  in- 
fluence, of  rank  were  open  before  him.  This  thought  nerved  his  arm  and 


1806.]  JENA  AND  AUERSTADT.  517 

inspired  his  heart.  France  had  imbibed  the  unalterable  conviction,  which  it 
retains  to  the  present  day,  that  Napoleon  was  the  great  friend  of  the  people, 
their  advocate  and  the  firm  defender  of  their  rights.  After  the  battle  of 
Jena,  Napoleon  issued  a  glowing  proclamation  to  the  army,  in  which  he  ex- 
tolled in  the  loftiest  terms  their  heroism,  their  intrepidity,  and  their  endur- 
ance of  the  most  exhausting  fatigue.  He  concluded  in  the  following  words: 
"  Soldiers  !  I  love  you  with  the  same  intensity  of  affection  which  you  have 
ever  manifested  toward  me." 

Lannes,  in  a  dispatch  to  the  Emperor,  wrote,  "Yesterday  I  read  your 
majesty's  proclamation  at  the  head  of  the  troops.  The  concluding  words 
deeply  touched  the  hearts  of  the  soldiers.  It  is  impossible  for  me  to  tell 
your  majesty  how  much  you  are  beloved  by  these  brave  men.  In  truth,  nev- 
er was  lover  so  fond  of  his  mistress  as  they  are  of  your  person." 

The  Prussians  were  fully  aware  of  the  tremendous  power  with  which  the 
principles  of  equality  invested  the  French  soldier.  One  of  the  Prussian  offi- 
cers wrote  to  his  family,  in  a  letter  which  was  intercepted,  "  The  French,  in 
the  fire,  become  supernatural  beings.  They  are  urged  on  by  an  inexpressi- 
ble ardor,  not  a  trace  of  which  is  to  be  discovered  in  our  soldiers.  What 
can  be  done  with  peasants  who  are  led  into  battle  by  nobles,  to  encounter 
every  peril,  and  yet  to  have  no  share  in  the  honors  or  rewards  ?" 

The  King  of  Prussia  himself,  while  a  fugitive  in  those  wilds  of  Poland 
which,  in  banditti  alliance  with  Russia  and  Austria,  he  had  infamously  an- 
nexed to  his  kingdom,  found  that  he  could  not  contend  successfully  with 
France  without  introducing  equality  in  the  ranks  of  his  army  also.  Thus 
liberal  ideas  were  propagated  wherever  the  armies  of  Napoleon  appeared. 
In  every  country  in  Europe,  the  Emperor  of  France  was  regarded  by  demo- 
crat and  aristocrat  alike  as  the  friend  of  the  people. 

During  these  stormy  scenes,  Napoleon,  in  the  heart  of  Prussia,  conceived 
the  design  of  erecting  the  magnificent  temple  of  the  Madeleine.  It  was  to 
be  a  memorial  of  the  gratitude  of  the  Emperor,  and  was  to  bear  upon  its 
front  the  inscription,  "  The  Emperor  Napoleon  to  the  Soldiers  of  the  Great 
Army"  On  marble  tablets  there  were  to  be  inscribed  the  names  of  all  the 
officers,  and  of  every  soldier  who  had  been  present  at  the  great  events  of 
Ulm,  Austerlitz,  and  Jena.  The  names  of  those  who  had  fallen  in  those 
battles  were  to  be  inscribed  upon  tablets  of  gold. 

To  the  Minister  of  the  Interior  he  wrote  from  Posen,  dated  December  6, 
1806  :  "  Literature  has  need  of  encouragement.  Propose  to  me  some  means 
for  giving  an  impulse  to  all  the  different  branches  of  belles-lettres  which  have 
in  all  times  shed  lustre  upon  the  nation." 

In  the  midst  of  the  enormous  cares  of  this  extraordinary  campaign,  Napo- 
leon found  time  to  write,  almost  every  day,  a  few  lines  to  Josephine.  A  few 
of  these  letters  will  be  read  with  interest : 

"  Bamberg,  Oct.  7,  1806. 

"I  set  out  this  evening,  love,  for  Cronach.  My  army  is  in  full  march. 
Every  thing  is  prosperous.  My  health  is  perfect.  I  have  received  but  one 
letter  from  you.  I  have  received  one  from  Eugene  and  Hortense.  Adieu. 
A  thousand  kisses,  and  good  health.  NAPOLEON." 


518  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.  [CHAP.  XXXIII. 

"  Gera,  Oct.  13,  2  o'clock  in  the  morning. 

"I  am  at  Gera,  my  dear  friend.  My  affairs  are  prosperous — every  thing 
as  I  could  wish.  In  a  few  days,  with  the  aid  of  God,  matters  will  take,  I 
think,  a  terrible  turn  for  the  poor  King  of  Prussia.  I  pity  him,  personally, 
for  he  is  a  worthy  man.  The  queen  is  at  Erfurt  with  the  king.  If  she  wish- 
es to  see  a  battle,  she  will  have  that  cruel  pleasure.  I  am  very  well.  I 
have  gained  flesh  since  my  departure  ;  nevertheless,  I  travel  every  day  from 
sixty  to  seventy  five  miles,  on  horseback,  in  carriages,  and  in  every  other 
way.  I  retire  at  eight  o'clock,  and  rise  at  midnight.  I  often  think  that  you 
have  not  yet  retired.  Wholly  thine,  NAPOLEON." 

"Jena,  Oct.  15,  3  o'clock  in  the  morning. 

"  My  love  !  I  have  maneuvered  successfully  agairst  the  Prussians.  Yes- 
terday I  gained  a  great  victory.  There  were  150,000  men.  I  have  taken 
20,000  prisoners ;  also  100  pieces  of  cannon,  and  many  flags.  I  was  near 
the  King  of  Prussia,  and  just  failed  taking  him  and  the  queen.  For  two 
days  and  nights  I  have  been  in  the  field  I  am  wonderfully  well.  Adieu, 
my  love  !  Take  care  of  yourself,  and  love  me.  If  Hortense  is  with  you, 
give  her  a  kiss,  as  also  one  to  Napoleon,  and  to  the  little  one. 

"  NAPOLEON." 

"  Weimar,  Oct.  16,  5  o'clock  in  the  evening. 

"  M.  Talleyrand  will  show  you  the  bulletin,  my  dear  friend.  You  will 
there  see  my  success.  Every  thing  has  transpired  as  I  had  calculated. 
Never  was  an  army  more  effectually  beaten  and  more  entirely  destroyed.  I 
have  only  time  to  say  that  I  am  well,  and  that  I  grow  fat  upon  fatigue,  bi- 
vouacs, and  sleeplessness.  Adieu,  my  dear  friend.  A  thousand  loving 
words  to  Hortense,  and  to  the  grand  Monsieur  Napoleon.  Wholly  thine, 

"NAPOLEON." 

"  Nov.  1 ,  2  o'clock  in  the  morning. 

"  Talleyrand  has  arrived,  and  tells  me,  my  love,  that  you  do  nothing  but 
weep.  What  do  you  wish,  thpn  ?  You  have  your  daughter,  grandchildren, 
and  good  news.  Surely  this  is  enough  to  make  one  contented  and  happy. 
The  weather  is  superb.  Not  a  drop  of  rain  has  yet  fallen,  during  the  cam- 
paign. I  am  very  well,  and  every  thing  is  prosperous.  Adieu,  my  love!  I 
have  received  a  letter  from  Monsieur  Napoleon.  I  think  Hortense  must 
have  written  it.  A  thousand  kind  things  to  all.  NAPOLEON." 

The  little  Napoleon  to  whom  the  Emperor  so  often  alludes  was  the  eldest 
son  of  Louis  and  Hortense,  and  brother  of  the  present  Emperor  of  France. 
He  was  an  unusually  bright  and  promising  boy,  and  a  great  favorite  of  his 
illustrious  grandfather.  Napoleon  had  decided  to  adopt  him  as  his  heir,  and 
all  thoughts  of  divorce  were  now  laid  aside. 


1806.J  THE  FIELD  OF  EYLAU.  519 


CHAPTER  XXXIV. 

THE     FIELD    OF    EYLAU. 

Unavailing  Appeal  of  Napoleon — Paper  Blockade — Report  of  the  French  Minister — The  Berlin 
Decree — Retaliatory  Measures  of  France  and  England — Testimony  of  Alison — Proclamation  to 
the  desponding  Soldiers — Message  to  the  Senate — Petitions  of  the  Poles — Embarrassing  Situa- 
tion of  Napoleon — Encampment  on  the  Vistula — Care  for  the  Soldiers — Battle  of  Eylau — The 
old  Grenadier — Touching  Anecdotes — Letters  to  Josephine. 

ON  the  fields  of  Jena  and  Auerstadt  the  Prussian  monarchy  was  destroy- 
ed. Frederick  William  had  nothing  left  but  a  remote  province  of  his  empire. 
To  this  he  had  escaped  a  fugitive.  From  the  utter  wreck  of  his  armies  he 
had  gathered  around  him  a  few  thousand  men.  It  was  with  extreme  regret 
that  Napoleon  had  found  himself  compelled  to  leave  the  congenial  scenes 
of  peaceful  life  in  Paris  to  repel  the  assault  of  his  banded  foes.  Had  he 
remained  in  France  until  Russia,  Prussia,  and  England  had  combined  their 
multitudinous  hosts,  he  would  have  been  undone.  With  his  accustomed  en- 
ergy, he  sprang  upon  Prussia  before  Alexander  had  time,  with  his  hundred 
thousand  troops,  to  traverse  the  vast  plains  between  St.  Petersburg  and  Ber- 
lin. By  the  most  extraordinary  skill  in  maneuvering,  and  in  the  endurance 
of  fatigue  and  toil  almost  superhuman,  he  threw  his  whole  force  into  the  rear 
of  the  Prussians.  He  thus  cut  them  off  from  Berlin  and  from  all  their  sup- 
plies. Then,  sure  of  victory,  to  save  the  effusion  of  blood  he  again  implored 
peace.  His  appeal  was  unavailing.  The  roar  of  battle  commenced,  and  the 
armies  of  Prussia  were  overwhelmed,  crushed,  annihilated.  As  soon  as  the 
terrific  scene  was  over,  Napoleon  quietly  established  himself  in  the  palaces 
of  the  Prussian  monarch.  The  kingdom  was  entirely  at  his  mercy.  He 
then  sent  Duroc  to  find  Frederick  William,  again  to  propose  the  sheathing 
of  the  sword. 

The  unhappy  king  was  found  more  than  five  hundred  miles  from  his  cap- 
ital. He  was  far  away  beyond  the  Vistula,  in  the  wilds  of  Prussian  Poland. 
He  had  gathered  around  him  about  twenty-five  thousand  men,  the  shattered 
remnants  of  those  hardy  battalions  whom  Frederick  the  Great  had  trained 
to  despise  fatigue,  dangers,  and  death.  The  Russian  host,  amazed  at  the 
sudden  catastrophe  which  had  overwhelmed  its  ally,  threw  open  its  arms  to 
receive  the  fugitive  king.  Frederick,  animated  by  the  presence  of  the  proud 
legions  of  Alexander,  and  conscious  that  the  innumerable  hordes  of  Russia 
were  pledged  for  his  support,  still  hoped  to  retrieve  his  affairs.  Perempto- 
rily he  repelled  the  advance  of  Napoleon,  resolving,  with  renewed  energy, 
again  to  appeal  to  the  decisions  of  the  sword. 

Nothing  now  remained  for  Napoleon  but  resolutely  to  meet  the  accumu- 
lating hostility  which  still  threatened  him.  Frederick,  from  the  remote  prov. 
inces  of  his  empire,  was  endeavoring  to  resuscitate  his  army.  Alexander, 
thoroughly  aroused,  was  calling  into  requisition  all  the  resources  of  his  al- 
most illimitable  realms.  He  hoped  to  collect  a  force  which  would  utterly 


520  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.  [CHAP.  XXXIV. 

overwhelm  the  audacious  victor.  England,  with  her  invincible  navy  proud- 
ly sweeping  all  seas,  was  landing  at  Dantzic  and  Konigsberg  troops,  treas- 
ure, and  munitions  of  war.  The  storms  of  winter  had  already  come.  Na- 
poleon was  a  thousand  miles  from  the  frontiers  of  France.  His  foes  were 
encamped  several  hundred  miles  further  north,  amid  the  gloomy  forests  and 
the  snow-clad  hills  of  Poland.  During  the  winter  they  would  have  time  to 
accumulate  their  combined  strength,  and  to  fall  upon  him,  in  the  spring,  with 
overwhelming  numbers. 

England,  exasperated  and  alarmed  by  this  amazing  triumph  of  Napoleon, 
now  adopted  a  measure  which  has  been  condemned  by  the  unanimous  voice 
of  the  civilized  world  as  a  grievous  infringement  of  the  rights  of  nations. 
It  is  an  admitted  principle,  that  when  two  powers  are  at  war,  every  neutral 
power  has  a  right  to  sail  from  the  ports  of  one  to  the  ports  of  the  other,  and 
1o  carry  any  merchandise  whatever,  excepting  arms  arid  military  supplies. 
Either  of  the  contending  parties  has,  however,  the  right  to  blockade  any 
port  or  ports  by  a  naval  force  sufficient  to  preclude  an  entrance.  England, 
however,  having  the  undisputed  command  of  the  seas,  adopted  what  has  been 
called  a  paper  blockade.  She  forbade  all  nations  to  have  any  commercial 
intercourse  whatever  with  France  or  her  allies.  She  had  also  established 
it  as  a  maritime  law,  that  all  private  property  found  afloat,  belonging  to  an 
enemy,  was  to  be  seized,  and  that  peaceful  passengers  captured  upon  the 
ocean  were  to  be  made  prisoners  of  war.  The  French  Minister  for  Foreign 
Affairs  made  a  very  able  report  to  the  government  upon  this  subject,  which 
was  concluded  in  the  following  words  : 

"  The  natural  right  of  self-defense  permits  us  to  oppose  an  enemy  with 
the  same  arms  he  uses,  and  to  make  his  own  rage  and  folly  recoil  upon  him- 
self. Since  England  has  ventured  to  declare  all  France  in  a  state  of  block- 
ade, let  France,  in  her  turn,  declare  that  the  British  isles  are  blockaded. 
Since  England  considers  every  Frenchman  an  enemy,  let  all  Englishmen,  m 
the  countries  occupied  by  the  French  armies,  be  made  prisoners  of  war. 
Since  England  seizes  the  private  property  of  peaceable  merchants,  let  the 
property  of  all  Englishmen  be  confiscated.  Since  England  desires  to  impede 
all  commerce,  let  no  ships  from  the  British  isles  be  received  into  the  French 
ports.  As  soon  as  England  shall  admit  the  authority  of  the  law  of  nations 
universally  observed  by  civilized  countries ;  as  soon  as  she  shall  acknowl- 
edge that  the  laws  of  war  are  the  same  by  sea  and  land ;  that  the  right  of 
conquest  can  not  be  extended  either  to  private  property  or  to  unarmed  and 
peaceable  individuals  ;  and  that  the  right  of  blockade  ought  to  be  limited 
to  fortified  places,  your  majesty  will  cause  these  rigorous  but  not  unjust 
measures  to  cease,  for  justice  between  nations  is  nothing  but  exact  reci- 
procity." 

In  accordance  with  these  principles,  thus  avowed  to  the  world,  Napoleon 
issued  his  famous  ordinance,  called,  from  the  city  at  which  it  was  dated,  The 
Berlin  Decree*  He  declared,  in  his  turn,  the  British  islands  blockaded,  all 

*  The  following  is  a  copy  of  this  celebrated  document : 

In  our  Imperial  Camp,  Berhn,  Nov.  26,  1808 
Napoleon,  Emperor  of  the  French  and  King  of  Italy,  considering, 
1.  That  England  regards  not  the  law  of  nations,  recognized  by  all  civilized  states ; 


1806.]  THE  FIELD  OF  EYLAU.  521 

English  property  found  upon  the  Continent  confiscated,  all  Englishmen, 
wherever  taken,  prisoners,  and  excluded  all  English  manufactures  from  the 

2.  That  she  holds  for  an  enemy  every  individual  belonging  to  a  hostile  power,  and  makes  prison- 
ers of  war  not  only  the  crews  of  armed  vessels,  but  the  crews  of  trading  ships,  and  even  captures 
merchants  traveling  on  account  of  commercial  business ; 

3.  That  she  extends  to  merchantmen,  and  to  the  property  of  individuals,  the  right  of  conquest, 
which  is  only  applicable  to  what  belongs  to  the  hostile  state  ; 

4.  That  she  extends  to  commercial  towns  and  to  ports  not  fortified,  to  havens  and  to  the  mouths 
of  rivers,  the  ricrht  of  blockade,  which,  according  to  the  practice  of  civilized  nations,  only  is  appli- 
cable to  fortified  places  ; 

5.  That  she  declares  blockaded  places  before  which  she  has  not  even  a  single  ship  of  war,  though 
no  place  is  blockaded  until  it  is  so  invested  that  it  can  not  be  approached  without  imminent  danger ; 

6  That  she  even  declares  in  a  state  of  blockade  places  which  her  whole  force  united  would  be 
unable  to  blockade,  the  entire  coast  of  an  empire  ; 

7.  That  this  monstrous  abuse  of  the  right  of  blockade  has  no  other  object  than  to  prevent  com- 
munications between  different  countries,  and  to  raise  the  trade  and  the  manufactures  of  England 
upon  the  ruin  of  the  industry  of  the  Continent ; 

8.  That  such  being  evidently  the  object  of  England,  whoever  deals  in  English  merchandise  on 
the  Continent  thereby  favors  her  designs  and  becomes  her  accomplice ; 

9.  That  this  conduct  on  the  part  of  England,  which  is  worthy  of  the  early  ages  of  barbarism, 
has  operated  to  the  advantage  of  that  power  and  to  the  injury  of  others  ; 

10.  That  it  is  a  part  of  natural  law  to  oppose  one's  enemies  with  the  arms  he  employs,  and  to 
fiirht  in  the  way  he  fights,  when  he  disavows  all  those  ideas  of  justice  and  all  those  liberal  senti- 
ments which  are  the  results  of  social  civilization  ; 

We  have  resolved  to  apply  to  England  the  measures  which  she  has  sanctioned  by  her  maritime 
legislation. 

The  enactments  of  the  present  decree  shall  be  invariably  considered  as  a  fundamental  principle 
of  the  Empire  until  such  time  as  England  acknowledge  that  the  law  of  war  is  one  and  the  same 
by  land  and  by  sea ;  that  it  can  not  be  extended  to  private  property  of  any  description  whatsoever, 
nor  to  the  persons  of  individuals  not  belonging  to  the  profession  of  arms,  and  that  the  law  of 
blockade  ought  to  be  limited  to  fortified  places  actually  invested  by  competent  forces. 

Accordingly,  we  have  decreed  and  do  decree  as  follows : 

1.  The  British  islands  are  declared  in  a  state  of  blockade. 

2.  All  trade  and  intercourse  with  the  British  islands  is  prohibited.     Consequently,  letters  or 
packets  addressed  to  England,  or  to  any  native  of  England,  or  written  in  the  English  language, 
will  not  be  conveyed  by  post,  and  will  be  seized. 

3.  Every  native  of  England,  whatever  his  rank  or  condition,  who  may  be  found  in  the  countries 
occupied  by  our  troops  or  by  those  of  our  allies,  shall  be  made  prisoner  of  war. 

4.  Every  warehouse,  and  all  merchandise  and  property  of  any  description  whatever,  belonging 
to  an  English  subject,  or  the  produce  of  English  manufactures  or  colonies,  is  declared  good  prize. 

5.  Trade  in  English  merchandise  is  prohibited ;  and  all  merchandise  belonging  to  England,  or 
the  produce  of  her  manufactures  and  colonies,  is  declared  good  prize. 

6.  One  half  of  the  produce  of  the  confiscation  of  the  merchandise  and  property  declared  good 
prize  by  the  preceding  articles,  will  be  appropriated  to  the  indemnification  of  the  merchants  for 
losses  they  have  sustained  through  the  capture  of  trading  vessels  by  English  cruisers. 

7.  No  vessel,  coming  directly  from  England  or  her  colonies,  or  having  been  there  since  the  pub- 
lication of  the  present  decree,  will  be  received  in  any  port. 

8.  Any  vessel  which,  by  means  of  a  false  delaration,  shall  contravene  the  above  article,  shall  be 
seized,  and  the  ship  and  cargo  shall  be  confiscated,  as  if  they  were  English  property. 

9.  Our  prize-court  of  Paris  shall  pronounce  final  judgment  in  all  disputes  that  may  arise  in  our 
empire,  or  the  countries  occupied  by  the  French  army,  relative  to  the  execution  of  the  present  de- 
cree.    Our  prize-court  of  Milan  shall  pronounce  final  judgment  in  all  the  said  disputes  that  may 
arise  throughout  our  kingdom  of  Italy. 

10.  Our  minister  for  foreign  affairs  will  communicate  the  present  decree  to  the  Kings  of  Spain, 
Naples,  Holland,  and  Etruria,  and  to  our  other  allies,  whose  subjects,  like  our  own,  are  suffering 
from  the  injustice  and  barbarism  of  the  maritime  legislation  of  England. 

11.  Our  ministers  for  foreign  affairs,  war,  marine,  finance,  and  police,  and  our  postmasters  gen- 
eral, are  directed,  according  as  they  are  severally  concerned,  to  carry  the  present  decree  into  exe- 
cution. (Signed)  NAPOLKOM. 


522  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.  [CHAP.  XXXIV. 

ports  of  France  and  her  allies.  This  retaliatory  measure  has  been  admired 
by  some  as  a  profound  stroke  of  policy;  by  others  it  has  been  denounced 
as  a  revolting  act  of  despotism.  It  certainly  was  not  presenting  the  other 
cheek.  It  was  returning  Jolow  for  blow.  By  thus  excluding  all  English 
goods  from  the  Continent,  Napoleon  hoped  to  be  able  soon  to  render  the 
Continent  independent  of  the  factories  and  the  work-shops  of  the  wealthy 
islanders.  France  owes  to  this  decree  the  introduction  of  sugar  from  the 
beet  root. 

"  I  found  myself  alone,"  says  Napoleon,  "  in  my  opinion  on  the  Continent. 
I  was  compelled,  for  the  moment,  to  employ  force  in  every  quarter.  At 
length  they  began  to  comprehend  me.  Already  the  tree  bears  fruit.  If  I 
had  not  given  way,  I  should  have  changed  the  face  of  commerce  as  well  as 
the  path  of  industry.  I  had  naturalized  sugar  and  indigo.  I  should  have 
naturalized  cotton  and  many  other  things." 

Two  days  after  the  publication  of  the  Berlin  decree,  Napoleon  wrote  to 
Junot,  "  Take  especial  care  that  the  ladies  of  your  establishment  use  Swiss 
tea.  It  is  as  good  as  that  of  China.  Coffee  made  from  chicory  is  not  at 
all  inferior  to  that  of  Arabia.  Let  them  make  use  of  these  substitutes  in 
their  drawing-rooms,  instead  of  amusing  themselves  with  talking  politics  like 
Madame  de  Stae'l.  Let  them  take  care  also  that  no  part  of  their  dress  is 
composed  of  English  merchandise.  If  the  wives  of  my  chief  officers  do  not 
set  the  example,  whom  can  I  expect  to  follow  it  ?  It  is  a  contest  of  life  or 
death  between  France  and  England.  I  must  look  for  the  most  cordial  sup- 
port in  all  those  by  whom  I  am  surrounded." 

In  reference  to  the  unrelenting  hostility  with  which  Napoleon  was  assailed 
nearly  every  moment  of  his  life,  he  often  remarked,  "  I  can  not  do  what  I  wish. 
I  can  only  do  what  I  can.  These  English  compel  me  to  live  day  by  day." 

The  French  Directory,  on  the  18th  of  January,  1798,  had  iniquitously 
passed  a  decree  declaring  all  ships  containing  English  merchandise  good 
prizes,  and  dooming  to  death  all  neutral  sailors  found  on  board  English  ships. 
This  was  one  of  the  acts  of  that  anarchical  government  which  Napoleon 
overthrew. 

"  Napoleon,"  says  Alison,  "  soon  after  his  accession  to  the  consular  throne, 
issued  a  decree  revoking  this,  and  reverting  to  the  old  and  humane  laws  of 
the  monarchy  in  this  respect.""  This  decree  of  Napoleon  was  surely  an  act 
of  conciliation  and  friendship. 

On  the  1 6th  of  May,  1806,  the  British  government  passed  an  order  de- 
claring "the  whole  coasts,  harbors,  and  rivers,  from  the  Elbe  to  Brest  in- 
clusive, as  actually  blockaded."  To  this  order  in  council  Napoleon  replied 
by  the  Berlin  decree  of  November  26,  1806. 

England  then  passed  another  act,  still  more  arrogant  and  oppressive,  on 
the  1st  of  January,  1807,  declaring  "that  no  vessel  shall  be  permitted  to  trade 
from  one  port  to  another,  if  both  belong  to  France  or  her  allies,  and  shall  be 
so  far  under  their  control  as  that  British  vessels  are  excluded  therefrom  ; 
and  the  captains  of  all  British  vessels  are  hereby  required  to  warn  every 
neutral  vessel,  coming  from  any  such  port,  and  destined  to  such  other  port, 
to  discontinue  her  voyage ;  and  any  vessel,  after  being  so  warned,  or  after 
having  had  a  reasonable  time  allowed  it  for  obtaining:  information  of  the 


1806.]  THE  FIELD  OF  EYLAU.  523 

present  order  in  council,  which  shall,  notwithstanding,  persist  in  such  voy- 
age to  such  other  port,  shall  be  declared  good  prize."  To  this  Napoleon 
made  no  reply. 

After  a  few  months,  on  the  1 1  th  of  November,  1 807,  England,  adding  in- 
sult to  injury,  issued  another  decree,  still  more  severe,  declaring  all  the  ports 
and  places  of  France  and  her  allies,  from  which,  though  not  at  war  with  his 
majesty,  the  British  flag  is  excluded,  shall  be  subject  to  the  same  restrictions 
in  respect  of  trade  and  navigation  as  if  the  same  were  actually  blockaded  in 
the  most  strict  and  rigorous  manner ;  and  that  all  trade  in  articles,  the  pro- 
duce or  manufacture  of  the  said  countries  or  colonies,  shall  be  deemed  to  be 
unlawful,  and  all  such  articles  declared  good  prize."  To  this  Napoleon  re- 
plied in  his  celebrated  Mjlan  decree  of  December  17 th,  1807. 

These  decrees  of  Napoleon  gave  rise  to  the  most  extraordinary  debates 
in  the  English  Parliament,  during  which  no  one  of  either  of  the  parties  into 
which  the  Parliament  was  divided  even  alluded  to  the  fact  that  England  was 
entirely  the  aggressor. 

"  In  endeavoring,  at  the  distance  of  thirty  years,"  says  Alison,  "  to  form 
an  impartial  opinion  on  this  most  important  subject,  it  must  at  once  strike 
the  most  cursory  observer,  that  the  grounds  on  which  this  question  was  de- 
bated in  the  British  Parliament  were  not  those  on  which  its  merits  really 
rested,  or  on  which  they  were  placed  by  Napoleon  at  the  time,  and  have 
been  since  argued  by  the  Continental  historians.  On  both  sides,  in  England, 
it  was  assumed  that  France  was  the  aggressor  by  the  Berlin  decree,  and 
that  the  only  question  was  whether  the  orders  in  council  exceeded  the  just 
measures  of  retaliation,  or  were  calculated  to  produce  more  benefit  or  injury 
to  this  country. 

"  But  was  the  Berlin  decree  the  origin  of  the  commercial  warfare,  or 
was  it  merely,  as  Napoleon  and  the  French  writers  assert,  a  retaliation  upon 
England,  by  the  only  means  at  the  disposal  of  the  French  emperor,  for  the 
new  and  illegal  species  of  warfare  which,  in  the  pride  of  irresistible  maritime 
strength,  they  had  thought  fit  to  adopt  ?  That  is  the  point  upon  which  the 
whole  question  really  depends  ;  and  yet,  though  put  in  the  foremost  rank  by 
Napoleon,  it  was  scarcely  touched  on  by  either  party  in  the  British  Parlia- 
ment. Nor  is  it  difficult  to  see  to  what  cause  this  extraordinary  circum- 
stance was  owing.  Both  the  great  parties  which  divided  that  assembly  were 
desirous  of  avoiding  that  question ;  the  Whigs,  because  the  measure  com- 
plained of  by  Napoleon,  and  on  which  the  Berlin  decree  was  justified  by  the 
French  government,  had  been  mainly  adopted  by  Mr.  Fox,  and  subsequent- 
ly extended  by  Lord  Howick ;  the  Tories,  because  they  were  unwilling  to 
cast  any  doubt  on  the  exercise  of  maritime  powers,  in  their  opinion,  of  es- 
sential importance  to  this  country,  and  which  gave  them  the  great  advantage 
of  having  their  political  adversaries  necessarily  compelled  to  support  the  gen- 
eral principle  on  which  the  measures  in  question  had  been  founded. 

"  History,  however,  must  disregard  all  these  temporary  considerations,  and 
in  good  faith  approach  the  question,  whether,  in  this  great  debate,  England 
or  France  was  the  real  aggressor;  and  on  this  point,  as  on  most  others  in 
human  affairs,  where  angry  passions  have  been  strongly  excited,  it  will  prob- 
ably be  found  that  there  were  faults  on  both  sides. 


524  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.  [CHAP.  XXXIV. 


still  the  English  historian  must  lament  that  the  British  government 
had  given  so  plausible  a  ground  for  representing  his  measures  as  retaliatory 
only,  by  issuing  in  May,  1806,  the  blockade  of  the  French  coasts  of  the 
Channel." 

There  has  probably  been  no  act  of  Napoleon's  life  for  which  he  has  been 
more  pitilessly  condemned  than  for  his  Berlin  and  Milan  decrees.  They 
have  been  represented  as  atrocious  acts  of  wanton  and  unprovoked  aggres- 
sion against  a  meek  and  lowly  sister  kingdom. 

It  was  reported  to  Napoleon  that  the  troops,  comfortably  housed  in  the 
cities  and  villages  of  Prussia,  were  very  reluctant  to  move  to  frigid  bivouacs 
upon  the  icy  marshes  of  the  Vistula.  To  one  who  reported  to  him  the  de- 
spondency of  the  army,  Napoleon  inquired, 

"  Does  the  spirit  of  my  troops  fail  them  when  in  sight  of  the  enemy  ?" 

"  No,  Sire,"  was  the  reply. 

"  I  was  sure  of  it,"  said  Napoleon.  "My  troops  are  always  the  same.  I 
must  rouse  them." 

Walking  up  and  down  the  floor  with  rapid  strides,  he  immediately  dictated 
the  following  proclamation  :  "  Soldiers  !  A  year  to-day  you  were  on  the 
field  of  Austerlitz.  The  Russian  battalions  fled  before  you  in  dismay,  or, 
being  surrounded,  yielded  their  arms  to  the  victors.  The  next  day  they 
sued  for  peace.  But  we  were  imposed  upon.  Scarcely  had  they  escaped, 
through  our  generosity,  which  was  probably  blamable,  from  the  disasters  of 
the  third  coalition,  than  they  organized  a  fourth.  But  the  ally  upon  whom 
they  chiefly  relied  is  no  more.  His  capital,  fortresses,  magazines,  arsenals, 
two  hundred  and  eighty  standards,  seven  hundred  field  pieces,  and  five  forti- 
fied cities,  are  in  our  possession.  The  Oder,  the  Wartha,  the  deserts  of  Po- 
land, the  storms  of  winter,  have  not  arrested  your  steps  for  a  moment.  You 
have  braved  all,  surmounted  all.  Every  foe  has  fled  at  your  approach. 

"  In  vain  have  the  Russians  endeavored  to  defend  the  capital  of  ancient 
and  renowned  Poland.  The  eagle  of  France  soars  over  the  Vistula.  The 
brave  and  unfortunate  Pole,  on  seeing  you,  dreams  that  he  beholds  the  le- 
gions of  Sobieski  returning  from  their  memorable  expedition.  Soldiers  !  we 
will  not  sheath  our  swords  until  a  general  peace  is  established,  and  we  have 
secured  the  rights  of  our  allies,  and  restored  to  our  commerce  its  freedom 
and  its  colonies.  On  the  Elbe  and  the  Oder  we  have  reconquered  Pondicher- 
ry,  and  our  establishments  in  India,  the  Cape  of  Good  Hope,  and  the  Span- 
ish colonies.  Who  gave  the  Russians  the  right  to  hold  the  balance  of  des- 
tiny, or  to  interfere  with  our  just  designs  ?  They  and  ourselves,  are  we  not 
still  the  soldiers  of  Austerlitz  ?" 

Bourrienne  says,  "  When  Napoleon  dictated  his  proclamations,  he  appear- 
ed for  the  moment  inspired,  and  exhibited,  in  some  sort,  the  excitement  of 
the  Italian  Improvisatori.  In  order  to  follow  him,  it  was  necessary  to  write 
with  inconceivable  rapidity.  Frequently,  when  reading  over  to  him  what  he 
has  dictated,  I  have  known  him  smile,  as  in  triumph,  at  the  effect  which  he 
imagined  any  particular  passage  would  produce." 

This  address  electrified  the  whole  army.  Its  clarion  notes  rang  through 
all  hearts.  Not  another  murmur  was  heard.  The  corps  in  the  rear,  by 
forced  marches,  pressed  forward  with  alacrity  to  reach  head-quarters.  Those 


1806.]  THE  FIELD  OF  EYLAU.  525 

nearer  the  Emperor  forgot  their  fatigues  and  their  sufferings,  and  longed  to 
engage  the  enemy.  The  love  of  the  soldiers  for  their  chieftain  was  so  en- 
thusiastic, and  their  confidence  in  his  wisdom  was  so  unbounded,  that,  though 
hungry,  barefooted,  and  exhausted,  the  whole  mighty  host  crowded  eagerly 
along.  The  storms  of  approaching  winter  howled  around  them.  The 
wheels  of  their  ponderous  artillery  sank  axle  deep  in  the  mire.  Still,  through 
rain  and  snow,  and  miry  roads,  they  followed  their  indomitable  chief,  recount- 
ing with  pride  the  fatigues  which  they  had  already  endured,  and  eagerly  an- 
ticipating the  heroic  deeds  they  were  yet  to  perform. 

Before  leaving  Berlin  Napoleon  wrote  to  the  Minister  of  War.  "  The 
project  which  I  have  now  formed  is  more  vast  than  any  which  I  ever  before 
conceived.  From  this  time  I  must  find  myself  in  a  position  to  cope  with  all 
events."  He  also  addressed  a  message  to  the  Senate,  in  that  peculiar  energy 
of  style  marking  all  his  productions,  which  the  annals  of  eloquence  have 
rarely  equaled,  never  surpassed. 

4<  The  monarchs  of  Europe,"  said  he,  "  have  thus  far  sported  with  the 
generosity  of  France.  When  one  coalition  is  conquered,  another  immedi- 
ately springs  up.  No  sooner  was  that  of  1805  dissolved  than  we  had  to 
fight  that  of  1806.  It  behooves  France  to  be  less  generous  in  future.  The 
conquered  states  must  be  retained  till  the  general  peace  on  land  and  sea. 
England,  regardless  of  all  the  rights  of  nations,  launching  a  commercial  in- 
eerdict  against  one  quarter  of  the  globe,  must  be  struck  with  the  same  inter- 
dict in  return  ;  and  it  must  be  rendered  as  rigorous  as  the  nature  of  things 
Will  permit.  Since  we  are  doomed  to  war,  it  will  be  better  to  plunge  in 
wholly  than  to  go  but  half  way.  Thus  may  we  hope  to  terminate  it  more 
completely  and  more  solidly  by  a  general  and  durable  peace." 

The  labors  of  Napoleon  were  perfectly  herculean  in  preparing  for  this 
winter  campaign.  It  was  four  hundred  miles  from  Berlin  to  Warsaw.  This 
was  a  dreary  interval  for  an  army  to  traverse  through  the  freezing  storms 
and  drifting  snows  of  a  northern  winter.  The  Russians  and  Prussians  could 
present  a  hundred  and  twenty  thousand  men  upon  the  banks  of  the  Vistula. 

The  partition  of  Poland  by  Russia,  Prussia,  and  Austria  has  been  pro- 
nounced by  the  unanimous  voice  of  the  world  the  most  atrocious  act  which 
has  disgraced  modern  Europe.  As  soon  as  Napoleon  entered  that  part  of 
Poland  which  had  been  annexed  to  Prussia  in  this  infamous  deed  of  rapacity, 
the  Poles  gathered  around  him  with  the  utmost  enthusiasm.  The  nobles  of 
the  dismembered  empire  thronged  his  head-quarters.  They  hailed  him  as 
the  savior  of  their  country.  They  pledged  to  him  their  fortunes  and  their 
lives  if  he  would  rescue  Poland  from  their  oppressors.  The  populace  rent 
the  skies  with  enthusiastic  shouts  wherever  the  great  conqueror  appeared. 
They  were  clamorous  for  arms,  that  they  might  fight  the  battles  of  freedom, 
and  regain  their  independence.  Napoleon  was  extremely  embarrassed. 

A  deputation  from  Warsaw  waited  upon  him,  entreating  him  to  proclaim 
the  independence  of  Poland,  and  to  place  some  member  of  his  own  family 
upon  the  throne.  They  assured  him  that  the  Poles,  as  one  man,  would 
rally  with  admiration  and  gratitude  beneath  his  banners.  Napoleon  said  to 
them, 

"  France  has  never  recognized  the  different  partitions  of  Poland.  Never- 
VOL.  II.— P 


526  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.  [CHAP.  XXXIV. 

theless,  I  can  not  proclaim  your  independence  unless  you  are  determined  to 
defend  your  rights  with  arms  in  your  hands,  and  by  all  sorts  of  sacrifices, 
even  that  of  life.  You  are  reproached  with  having,  in  your  constant  civil 
dissensions,  lost  sight  of  the  true  interests  of  your  country.  Instructed  by 
misfortune,  be  now  united,  and  prove  to  the  world  that  one  spirit  animates 
the  whole  Polish  nation." 

After  the  deputation  had  withdrawn,  Napoleon  remarked,  "  I  like  the 
Poles.  Their  enthusiasm  pleases  me.  I  should  like  to  make  them  an  hide, 
pendent  people.  But  that  is  no  very  easy  matter.  The  cake  has  been 
shared  among  too  many.  There  is  Austria,  Russia,  and  Prussia,  who  have 
each  had  a  slice.  Besides,  when  the  match  is  once  kindled,  who  knows 
where  the  conflagration  may  stop.  My  first  duty  is  toward  France.  I  must 
not  sacrifice  her  interests  for  Poland.  In  short,  we  must  refer  this  matter 
to  the  universal  sovereign,  Time.  He  will  show  us  by-and-by  what  we  are 
to  do." 

The  situation  of  Napoleon  was  indeed  critical.  He  was  hundreds  of 
leagues  from  the  frontiers  of  France,  and  enveloped  in  the  snows  of  winter. 
Russia,  with  her  countless  hordes  and  unknown  resources,  was  threatening 
him  from  the  North.  Prussia,  though  conquered,  was  watching  for  an  op- 
portunity to  retrieve  her  disgrace  and  ruin.  Austria  had  raised  a  force  of 
eighty  thousand  men,  and  was  threatening  his  rear.  This  Austrian  force 
was  professedly  an  army  of  observation.  But  Napoleon  well  knew  that, 
upon  the  slightest  reverse,  Austria  would  fall  upon  him  in  congenial  alliance 
with  Russia  and  Prussia.  England,  the  undisputed  monarch  of  the  wide 
world  of  waters,  was  most  efficiently  co-operating  with  these  banded  foes  of 
France. 

By  proclaiming  the  independence  of  Poland,  Napoleon  would  have  gained 
a  devoted  ally,  ranging  a  nation  of  twenty  millions  of  inhabitants  beneath  his 
flag  ;  but  by  liberating  Poland  from  its  proud  and  powerful  oppressors,  he 
would  have  exasperated  to  the  highest  degree  Russia,  Prussia,  and  Austria. 
Thus  the  probabilities  of  peace  would  have  been  infinitely  more  remote. 
Napoleon  wras  contending  for  peace.  He  told  the  Poles  frankly  that  he 
could  not  involve  France  in  any  new  quarrels.  "  I  am  not  come  hither," 
said  he,  "  to  beg  a  throne  for  my  family.  I  am  not  in  want  of  thrones  to 
give  away." 

Through  December's  dismal  storms ;  through  a  country  more  dreary  than 
imagination  can  well  conceive,  filled  with  gloomy  forests,  fathomless  mo- 
rasses, bleak  and  barren  plains,  Napoleon  led  his  troops  to  the  banks  of  the 
Vistula.  Wherever  he  met  his  foes,  he  scattered  them  before  him  with 
whirlwind  power.  Sometimes,  over  a  space  of  seventy -five  miles  in  breadth, 
Napoleon's  army  was  fighting  its  way  against  the  storm  of  bullets  which, 
from  hostile  batteries,  swept  their  ranks.  But  nothing  could  retard  his 
progress.  The  suffering  of  that  wintry  march  was  awful  beyond  descrip- 
tion. Early  in  January  the  army  entered  the  dark  forests  which  frown 
along  the  inhospitable  Vistula. 

The  cantonments  of  the  French  army  were  extended  one  hundred  and 
fifty  miles,  skirting  the  left  bank  of  the  river.  All  the  passes  of  the  stream 
were  occupied  in  such  strength  as  to  render  surprise  impossible.  The  sol 


1806.] 


THE  FIELD  OF  EYLAU. 


527 


THE   MARCH   TO   THE   VISTULA. 


diers  cut  down  the  forests  and  constructed  comfortable  huts  to  screen  them- 
selves from  the  piercing  cold.  The  camps  were  admirably  arranged  in  reg- 
ular streets,  presenting  the  most  cheerful  aspect  of  order  and  cleanliness. 
Reviews,  rural  labors,  and  warlike  games  occupied  the  minds  of  the  soldiers 
and  confirmed  their  health.  Immense  convoys  of  provisions,  guarded  by 
troops  and  fortresses  left  in  the  rear,  were  continually  defiling  along  all  the 
roads  from  the  Rhine.  The  soldiers  were  soon  comfortable  and  happy  in 
their  well-provisioned  homes.  Napoleon,  regardless  of  his  own  ease,  thought 
of  them  alone.  He  was  every  where  present.  His  foresight  provided  for 
every  emergence.  His  troops  witnessed  with  gratitude  his  intense  devotion 
to  their  comfort.  They  saw  him  riding  from  post  to  post  by  day  and  by 
night,  drenched  with  rain,  spattered  with  mud,  whitened  with  snow,  regard- 
less of  rest,  of  food,  of  sleep,  wading  through  mire  and  drifts,  groping  through 
darkness  and  breasting  storms.  Napoleon  said,  "  My  soldiers  are  my  chil- 
dren." No  one  could  doubt  his  sincerity  who  witnessed  his  vigilance,  his 
toil,  his  fatigue.  Not  a  soldier  in  the  army  questioned  his  parental  love. 
Hence  the  Emperor  was  loved  in  return  as  no  other  mortal  was  ever  loved 
before. 

The  soldiers,  to  their  surprise,  found  that  the  generous  foresight  of  Napo- 
leon had  provided  them  even  with  several  millions  of  bottles  of  wine.  Abun- 
dant magazines  were  established,  that  they  might  be  fully  supplied  with 


528 


NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE. 


[CHAP.  XXXIV. 


good  food  and  warm  clothing.  The  sick  and  wounded  in  particular  were 
nursed  with  the  most  tender  care.  Six  thousand  beds  were  prepared  at 
Warsaw,  and  an  equal  number  at  Thorne,  at  Posen,  and  at  other  places  on 
the  banks  of  the  Vistula  and  the  Oder.  Comfortable  mattresses  of  wool 


ENCAMPMENT   ON    THE   VISTULA. 


were  made  for  the  hospitals.  Thirty  thousand  tents,  taken  from  the  Prus- 
sians, were  cut  up  into  bandages  and  bedding.  Over  each  hospital  Napoleon 
appointed  a  chief  overseer,  always  supplied  with  ready  money,  to  procure  for 
the  sick  whatever  luxuries  they  needed.  A  chaplain  was  appointed  in  each 
hospital  to  minister  to  the  spiritual  wants  of  the  sick  and  the  dying.  This 
chaplain  was  to  be,  in  an  especial  manner,  the  friend  and  the  protector  of 
those  under  his  care.  He  wras  charged  by  the  Emperor  to  report  to  him  the 
slightest  negligence  toward  the  sick.  Such  were  the  infinite  pains  which 
Napoleon  took  to  promote  the  comfort  of  his  soldiers.  He  shared  all  their 
hardships.  His  palace  was  a  barn.  In  one  room  he  ate,  and  slept,  and  re- 
ceived his  audiences.  It  was  his  invariable  custom,  whenever  he  issued  an 
order,  to  inform  himself  if  the  order  had  been  executed.  He  personally  ar- 
ranged all  the  military  works  of  the  widely-extended  line  over  which  his 
army  was  spread. 

The  month  of  January,  with  its  storms  and  intensity  of  cold,  passed  slowly 
away.     Winter  brooded  drearily  over  the  plains  of  Poland,  presenting  one 


I806.J  THE  FIELD  OF  EYLAU.  529 

vast  expanse  of  ice  and  snow  Europe  contemplated  with  amazement  the 
sublime  spectacle  of  a  French  arrny  of  one  or  two  hundred  thousand  men 
passing  the  winter  in  the  midst  of  the  gloomy  forests  of  the  Vistula.  Alexan- 
der, with  troops  accustomed  to  the  frozen  North,  planned  to  attack  Napoleon 
by  surprise  in  his  winter  quarters.  Secretly  he  put  his  mighty  host  in  motion. 
Napoleon,  ever  on  the  alert,  was  prepared  to  meet  him.  Immediately  march- 
ing from  his  encampments,  he  surprised  those  who  hoped  to  surprise  him. 

Battle  after  battle  ensued.  The  Russians  fought  with  unyielding  obsti- 
nacy, the  French  with  impetuous  enthusiasm.  In  every  forest,  in  every 
mountain  gorge,  upon  the  banks  of  every  swollen  stream  clogged  with  ice, 
the  Russians  planted  their  cannon,  and  hurled  balls,  and  shells,  and  grape 
into  the  bosoms  of  their  unrelenting  pursuers.  But  the  French,  impelled  by 
the  resistless  impetuosity  of  their  great  chieftain,  pressed  on,  regardless  of 
mutilation  and  death.  The  snow  was  crimsoned  with  blood.  The  wounded 
struggled,  and  shrieked,  and  froze  in  the  storm-piled  drifts.  The  dark  forms 
of  the  dead  floated  with  the  ice  down  the  cold  streams  to  an  unknown  burial. 
Wintry  nights,  long,  dismal,  and  freezing,  darkened  upon  the  contending 
hosts.  Their  lurid  watch-fires  gleamed  in  awful  sublimity  over  wide  leagues 
of  frozen  hill  and  valley.  The  soldiers  of  each  army,  nerved  by  the  ener- 
gies of  desperation,  threw  themselves  upon  the  snow  as  their  only  couch, 
and  with  no  tent  covering  but  the  chill  sky. 

Napoleon  stopped  one  night  at  a  miserable  cottage.  His  little  camp  bed- 
stead was  placed  in  the  middle  of  the  kitchen  floor.  In  five  minutes  he  dis- 
patched his  supper,  which  consisted  of  but  one  dish.  Then,  rolling  his  nap- 
kin into  a  ball,  he  playfully  threw  it  at  the  head  of  his  favorite  valet  Con- 
stant, saying,  "  Quick,  quick,  take  away  the  remains  of  my  banquet."  Then 
unrolling  a  map  of  Prussia,  he  spread  it  upon  the  floor,  and  addressing  Cau- 
laincourt,  said,  "  Come  here,  Grand  Equerry,  and  follow  me."  With  pins 
he  marked  out  the  progressive  movements  of  his  army,  and  said,  "  I  shall 
beat  the  Russians  there,  and  there,  and  there.  In  three  months  the  cam- 
paign will  be  ended.  The  Russians  must  have  a  lesson.  The  fair  Queen 
of  Prussia  must  learn  too  that  advisers  sometimes  pay  dearly  for  the  advice 
they  give.  I  do  not  like  those  women  who  throw  aside  their  attributes  of 
grace  and  goodness.  A  woman  to  instigate  war !  to  urge  men  to  cut  each 
other's  throats  !  Shame  on  it !  She  may  run  the  risk  of  losing  her  king- 
dom by  playing  that  game." 

At  this  moment  some  dispatches  were  delivered  to  the  Emperor.  Rapidly 
glancing  over  them,  he  frowned  and  exclaimed,  "  Surely  these  dispatches 
have  been  a  long  time  on  their  way  !  How  is  this  ?  Tell  the  orderly  offi- 
cer who  brought  them  that  I  wish  to  speak  to  him." 

"  Sir,"  said  he,  severely,  as  the  officer  entered,  "  at  what  hour  were  these 
dispatches  placed  in  your  hands  ?" 

"  At  eight  o'clock  in  the  evening,  sire." 

"  And  how  many  leagues  had  you  to  ride  ?" 

"  I  do  not  know  precisely,  sire." 

"  But  you  ought  to  know,  sir — an  orderly  officer  ought  to  know  that.  I 
know  it.  You  had  twenty-seven  miles  to  ride,  and  you  set  off  at  eight 
o'clock.  Look  at  your  watch,  sir.  What  o'clock  is  it  now  ?" 


530  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.  [CHAP.  XXXIV. 

"  Half  past  twelve,  sire.  The  roads  were  in  a  terrible  state.  In  some 
places  the  snow  obstructed  my  passage — " 

"  Poor  excuses,  sir,  poor  excuses.  Retire,  and  await  my  orders."  As  the 
officer,  extremely  disconcerted,  closed  the  door,  he  added,  "  This  cool,  leis- 
urely gentleman  wants  stimulating.  The  reprimand  I  have  given  him  will 
make  him  spur  his  horse  another  time.  Let  me  see — my  answer  must  be 
delivered  in  two  hours.  I  have  not  a  moment  to  lose." 

Soon  the  orderly  officer  was  recalled.  "  Set  off  immediately,  sir,"  said 
he  ;  "  these  dispatches  must  be  delivered  with  the  utmost  speed.  General 
Lasalle  must  receive  my  orders  by  three  o'clock — by  three  o'clock.  You 
understand,  sir  ?" 

"  Sire  !  by  half  past  two  the  general  shall  have  the  orders  of  which  I  have 
the  honor  to  be  the  bearer." 

"Very  well,  sir ;  mount  your  horse — but  stop  !"  he  added,  calling  the  offi- 
cer back,  and  speaking  in  those  winning  tones  of  kindness  which  he  had  ever 
at  his  command  :  "  tell  General  Lasalle  that  it  will  be  agreeable  to  me  that 
you  should  be  the  person  selected  to  announce  to  me  the  success  of  these 
movements." 

With  such  consummate  tact  could  Napoleon  severely  reprimand,  and  at 
the  same  time  win  the  confidence  and  the  love  of  the  person  reprimanded. 

Napoleon  had  now  driven  his  assailants,  enveloped  in  the  storms  and  the 
ice  of  a  Polish  winter,  two  hundred  and  forty  miles  from  the  banks  of  the 
Vistula  At  last  the  retreating  Russians  concentrated  all  their  forces  upon 
the  plain  of  Eylau.  It  was  the  7th  of  February,  1807.  The  night  was  dark 
and  intensely  cold,  as  the  Russians,  exhausted  by  the  retreating  march  of 
the  day,  took  their  position  for  a  desperate  battle  on  the  morrow.  There 
was  a  gentle  swell  of  land,  extending  two  or  three  miles,  which  skirted  a  vast, 
bleak,  unsheltered  plain,  over  which  the  piercing  wintry  gale  drifted  the  deep 
snow.  Leaden  clouds,  hurrying  through  the  sky  as  if  flying  from  a  defeat 
or  congregating  for  a  conflict,  boded  a  rising  storm.  Upon  this  ridge  the 
Russians,  in  double  lines,  formed  themselves  in  battle  array.  Five  hundred 
pieces  of  cannon  were  ranged  in  battery,  to  hurl  destruction  into  the  bosoms 
of  their  foes.  They  then  threw  themselves  upon  the  icy  ground  for  their 
frigid  bivouac.  The  midnight  storm  wailed  its  mournful  requiem  over  the 
sleeping  host,  and  sifted  down  upon  them  the  winding-sheet  of  snow. 

In  the  midst  of  the  tempestuous  night,  Napoleon,  with  his  determined  bat- 
talions, came  also  upon  the  plain,  groping  through  drifts 'and  gloom.  He 
placed  his  army  in  position  for  the  terrific  battle  which  the  dawn  of  morning 
would  usher  in.  Two  hundred  pieces  of  heavy  artillery  were  advantageous- 
ly posted  to  sweep  the  dense  ranks  of  the  enemy.  Upon  the  ridge  80,000 
Russians  slept.  In  the  plain  before  them  60,000  Frenchmen  were  bivouack- 
ing upon  the  snow.  The  hostile  hosts  were  at  but  half  cannon  shot  from 
each  other.  Indomitable  determination  inflamed  the  souls  of  officers  and 
soldiers  in  both  armies.  It  was  an  awful  night,  the  harbinger  of  a  still  more 
awful  day. 

The  frozen  earth,  the  inclement  sky,  the  scudding  clouds,  the  drifting 
snow,  the  wailing,  wintry  wind,  the  lurid  watchfires  gleaming  through  the 
gloom,  the  spectral  movement  of  legions  of  horsemen  and  footmen  taking 


1807.] 


THE  FIELD  OF  EYLAU. 


531 


BIVOUAC   BEFORE   EYLAU. 


their  positions  for  the  sanguinary  strife,  the  confused  murmur  of  the  voices 
and  of  the  movements  of  the  mighty  armies  blending,  like  the  roar  of  many 
waters,  with  the  midnight  storm,  presented  a  spectacle  of  sublimity  which 
overawed  every  beholder.  The  sentinels  of  each  army  could  almost  touch 
each  other  with  their  muskets.  Cold,  and  hungry,  and  weary,  the  spirit  of 
humanity  for  a  moment  triumphed  over  the  ferocity  of  war.  Kind  words  of 
greeting  and  of  sympathy  were  interchanged  by  those  who  soon,  in  phrensy, 
were  plunging  bayonets  into  each  other's  bosoms.  At  midnight,  Napoleon 
slept  for  an  hour  in  a  chair.  He  then  mounted  his  horse,  and  marshaled  his 
shivering  troops  for  the  horrors  of  battle. 

The  dark  and  stormy  morning  had  not  yet  dawned  when  the  cannonade 
commenced.  It  was  terrific.  The  very  earth  shook  beneath  the  tremen- 
dous detonation.  Seven  hundred  heavy  cannon,  worked  by  the  most  skill- 
ful gunners,  created  an  unintermitted  roar  of  the  most  deafening  and  appall- 
ing thunder.  Both  armies  presented  their  unprotected  breasts  to  bullets, 
grapeshot,  balls,  and  shells.  Companies,  battalions,  regiments,  even  whole 
divisions  melted  away  before  the  merciless  discharges.  The  storm  of  snow, 
in  blinding,  smothering  flakes,  swept  angrily  into  the  faces  of  the  assailants 
and  assailed,  as  the  bands  of  battle,  in  exultant  victory  or  in  terrific  defeat, 
rushed  to  and  fro  over  the  plain.  The  tempestuous  air  was  soon  so  filled 
with  smoke  that  the  day  was  as  dark  as  the  night.  Under  this  black  and  sul' 


532 


NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE. 


[CHAP.  XXXIV. 


phurous  canopy,  the  infuriate  hosts  rushed  upon  each  other.  Even  the  flash 
of  the  guns  could  not  be  seen  through  the  impenetrable  gloom.  Horsemen 
plunged  to  the  charge  unable  to  discern  the  foe.  Thus  the  deadly  conflict 
continued,  one  hundred  and  forty  thousand  men  firing  into  each  other's  bo- 
soms, through  the  morning,  and  the  noon,  and  the  afternoon,  and  after  the 
sun  had  gone  down  in  the  gloom  of  a  winter's  night.  Napoleon  galloped  up 
and  down  the  field  of  blood,  regardless  of  danger,  ever  presenting  himself  at 
those  points  which  were  most  threatened. 

In  the  midst  of  the  battle  Napoleon  was  informed  that  a  church,  which  he 
deemed  a  position  of  essential  importance,  had  been  taken  by  the  enemy. 
He  pressed  his  spurs  into  his  horse,  and  galloped  with  the  utmost  speed  into 
the  midst  of  his  battalions,  who  were  retreating  before  vastly  superior  num- 
bers. 

"  What !"  shouted  the  Emperor,  "  a  handful  of  Russians  repulse  troops  of 
the  Grand  Army  !  Forward,  my  brave  lads  !  We  must  have  the  church  ! 
We  must  have  it  at  every  hazard  /" 


EYLAU   AND   FRIEDLAND. 


Animated  by  this  voice,  an  enthusiastic  shout  of  "  Vive  1'Empereur  !"  rose 
above  the  thunders  of  the  conflict.  The  soldiers  instantly  formed  in  solid 
column,  and,  through  a  perfect  storm  of  bullets  and  shells,  forced  their  way 
upon  the  enemy.  The  Emperor  espied  a  few  paces  from  him  an  old  grena- 
dier. His  face  was  blackened  with  gunpowder,  his  clothes  were  red  with 
blood,  his  left  arm  had  just  been  torn  from  his  shoulder  by  a  shell,  and  the 
crimson  drops  were  falling  from  the  ghastly  wound.  The  man  was  hurrying 
to  fall  into  the  ranks. 

"  Stay  !  stay  !  my  good  fellow,"  exclaimed  the  Emperor  ;  "  go  to  the  am 
bulance  and  get  your  wound  dressed." 

"I  will,"  replied  the  soldier,  "as  soon  as  we  have  taken  the  church." 
He  then  disappeared  in  the  midst  of  the  smoke  and  the  tumult  of  the  battle 


1807.]  THE  FIELD  OF  EYLAU.  533 

The  Duke  of  Vicenza,  who  witnessed  this  scene,  says  the  tears  gushed  into 
the  eyes  of  the  Emperor  as  he  contemplated  this  touching  proof  of  devo- 
tion. 

The  battle  had  now  raged  for  eighteen  hours.  The  snow  was  red  with 
blood.  The  bodies  of  the  wounded  and  the  dead  covered  the  plain.  Thou- 
sands of  the  torn  and  bleeding  victims  of  war  through  these  long  hours  had 
writhed  in  agony  in  the  freezing  air,  trampled  by  the  rush  of  phrensied  squad- 
rons. Their  piercing  shrieks  rose  above  the  roar  of  artillery  and  musketry. 
Eylau  was  in  flames  ;  other  adjacent  villages  and  farm-houses  were  blazing. 
The  glare  of  the  conflagration  added  to  the  horrors  of  the  pitiless  storm  of 
the  elements  and  of  war.  Women  and  children  were  perishing  in  the  fields, 
having  fled  from  their  bomb-battered  and  burning  dwellings.  Still  the  battle 
continued  unabated. 

As  the  twilight  of  the  stormy  day  faded  into  the  gloom  of  night,  Napoleon, 
calm  and  firm,  stood  beneath  the  shelter  of  the  church  which  he  had  retaken. 
The  balls  were  crashing  around  him.  Grief  pervaded  every  face  of  the  im- 
perial staff.  With  consternation  they  implored  him  to  place  himself  in  a  po- 
sition of  safety.  Regardless  of  their  entreaties,  he  braved  every  peril.  In- 
fusing his  own  inflexibility  into  the  hearts  of  all  around,  he  still  impelled  his 
bleeding  columns  upon  the  foe.  More  than  thirty  thousand  Russians,  struck 
by  the  balls  and  the  swords  of  the  French,  were  stretched  upon  the  frozen 
field.  Ten  thousand  Frenchmen,  the  dying  and  the  dead,  were  also  strewed 
upon  the  plain.  Ten  thousand  horses  had  been  struck  down.  Some  had 
been  torn  in  pieces  by  cannon  balls ;  others,  frightfully  mutilated,  were  ut- 
tering piercing  screams,  and  were  wildly  plunging  over  the  plain,  trampling 
the  wounded  beneath  their  iron  hoofs. 

It  was  now  ten  o'clock  at  night.  Nearly  one  half  of  the  Russian  army 
was  destroyed.  A  fresh  division  of  the  French  now  appeared  on  the  field. 
They  had  been  marching  all  day,  with  the  utmost  haste,  guided  by  the  can- 
non's roar.  The  Russians  could  endure  the  conflict  no  longer.  Proud  of 
having  so  long  and  so  valiantly  withstood  the  great  Napoleon,  they  retreated, 
shouting  victory  !  Napoleon  remained  master  of  the  blood-bought  field.  The 
victors,  utterly  exhausted,  bleeding  and  freezing,  again  sought  such  repose 
as  could  be  found  upon  the  gory  ice  beneath  that  wintry  sky.  Napoleon 
was  overwhelmed  with  grief.  Never  before  had  such  a  scene  of  misery  met 
even  his  eye. 

According  to  his  invariable  custom,  he  traversed  the  field  of  battle  to  min- 
ister with  his  own  hands  to  the  wounded  and  the  dying.  It  wras  midnight — 
dark,  cold,  and  stormy.  By  his  example,  he  animated  his  attendants  to  the 
most  intense  exertions  in  behalf  of  the  sufferers.  His  sympathy  and  aid 
were  extended  to  the  wounded  Russians  as  well  as  to  those  of  his  own  army. 
One  of  his  generals,  witnessing  the  deep  emotion  with  which  he  was  affect- 
ed, spoke  of  the  glory  which  the  victory  would  give  him.  "  To  a  father," 
said  Napoleon,  "  who  loses  his  children,  victory  has  no  charms.  When  the 
heart  speaks,  glory  itself  is  an  illusion." 

As  Napoleon  was  passing  over  this  field  of  awful  carnage,  he  came  to  an 
ambulance,  or  hospital  wagon.  A  huge  pile  of  amputated  arms  and  legs, 
clotted  with  gore,  presented  a  horrible  spectacle  to  the  eye.  A  soldier  was 


534 


NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE. 


[CHAP.  XXXIV. 


resisting  the  efforts  of  the  surgeon,  who  was  about  to  cut  off  his  leg,  which 
had  been  dreadfully  shattered  by  a  cannon  balL 


MORNING  AFTER  THE  BATTLE  OF  EYLA.U. 


"What  is  the  matter?"  inquired  the  Emperor,  as  he  rode  up  to  the  spot. 
Seeing,  at  a  glance,  the  state  of  the  case,  he  continued,  "  How  is  this  ?  Sure- 
ty you,  a  brave  mustache,  are  not  afraid  of  a  cut !" 

"  No,  your  majesty,  I  am  not  afraid  of  a  cut.  But  this  is  a  sort  of  cut  that 
a  man  may  die  of;  and  there  is  poor  Catharine  and  her  four  little  ones  !  If 
I  should  die — "  and  the  man  sobbed  aloud. 


1807.]  THE  FIELD  OF  EYLAU.  535 

"  Well,"  replied  the  Emperor,  "  and  what  if  you  should  die  ?  Am  I  not 
here  ?" 

The  wounded  soldier  fixed  his  eyes  for  a  moment  upon  Napoleon,  and 
then,  with  a  trembling  voice,  exclaimed,  "  True  !  true,  your  majesty  !  I  am 
very  foolish.  Here,  doctor,  cut  off  rny  limb.  God  bless  the  Emperor  !" 

A  dragoon,  dreadfully  torn  by  a  cannon  ball,  raised  his  head  from  the 
bloody  snow  as  the  Emperor  drew  near,  and  faintly  said,  "  Turn  your  eyes 
this  way,  please  your  majesty.  I  believe  that  I  have  got  my  death  wound. 
I  shall  soon  be  in  the  other  world.  But  no  matter  for  that — Vive  1'Em- 
pereur !"  Napoleon  immediately  dismounted  from  his  horse,  tenderly  took 
the  hand  of  the  wounded  man,  and  enjoined  it  upon  his  attendants  to  convey 
him  immediately  to  the  ambulance,  and  to  commend  him  to  the  special  care 
of  the  surgeon.  Large  tears  rolled  down  the  cheeks  of  the  dying  dragoon 
as  he  fixed  his  eyes  upon  the  loved  features  of  his  Emperor.  Fervidly  he 
exclaimed,  "  I  only  wish  that  I  had  a  thousand  lives  to  lay  down  for  your 
majesty." 

"  Near  a  battery,"  says  Caulaincourt,  "which  had  been  abandoned  by  the 
enemy,  we  beheld  a  singular  picture,  and  one  of  which  description  can  con- 
vey but  a  faint  idea.  Between  a  hundred  and  fifty  and  two  hundred  French 
grenadiers  were  surrounded  by  a  quadruple  rank  of  Prussians.  Both  parties 
were  weltering  in  a  river  of  blood,  amid  fragments  of  cannons,  muskets, 
and  swords.  They  had  evidently  fought  with  the  most  determined  fury,  for 
every  corpse  exhibited  numerous  and  horrible  wounds.  A  feeble  cry  of  Vive 
rEmpereurf  was  heard  to  emanate  from  this  mountain  of  the  dead,  and  all 
eyes  were  instantly  turned  to  the  spot  whence  the  voice  proceeded.  Half 
concealed  beneath  a  tattered  flag  lay  a  young  officer,  whose  breast  was  dec- 
orated with  an  order.  Though  pierced  with  numerous  wounds,  he  succeeded 
in  raising  Himself  up,  so  as  to  rest  on  his  elbows.  His  handsome  counte- 
nance was  overspread  with  the  livid  hue  of  death.  He  recognized  the  Em- 
peror, and  in  a  feeble,  faltering  voice,  exclaimed, 

"  '  God  bless  your  majesty  !  farewell,  farewell !  Oh,  my  poor  mother  '* 
He  turned  a  supplicating  glance  to  the  Emperor,  and  then  uttering  the 
words,  '  To  dear  France  my  last  sigh !'  he  fell  stiff  and  cold.  It  was  poor 
Ernest  Auzoni,  one  of  the  bravest  of  men,  and  one  who,  but  a  few  hours  be- 
fore, had  received  the  warmest  commendation  of  the  Emperor.  His  death 
blighted  the  happiness  of  a  beautiful  and  accomplished  woman  whom  I  re- 
membered among  my  friends. 

"Napoleon  seemed  riveted  to  the  spot,  which  was  watered  with  the  blood 
of  these  heroes.  '  Brave  men !'  said  he  ;  '  brave  Auzoni !  Excellent  young 
man !  Alas  !  this  frightful  scene  !  His  endowment  shall  go  to  his  mother. 
Let  the  order  be  presented  for  my  signature  as  soon  as  possible.'  Then 
turning  to  Dr.  Ivan,  who  accompanied  him,  he  said,  '  Examine  poor  Auzoni's 
wounds,  and  see  whether  any  thing  can  be  done  for  him.  This  is  indeed 
terrible.'  The  Emperor,  whose  feelings  were  deeply  excited,  continued  his 
mournful  inspection  of  the  field  of  battle." 

Upon  this  dreadful  field  of  woe,  of  blood,  of  death,  oppressed  with  myriad 
cares,  and  in  the  gloom  of  the  inclement  night,  Napoleon  remembered  his 
faithful  and  anxious  Josephine.  She  was  then  in  Paris.  Seizing  a  pen,  he 


536  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.  [CHAP.  XXXIV. 

hurriedly  wrote  the  following  lines.     Calling  a  courier  to  his  side,  he  dis- 
patched him  at  his  fleetest  speed  to  convey  the  note  to  Josephine  : 

"  Eylau,  3  o'clock  in  the  morning,  February  9,  1807. 

"  My  love  !  There  was  a  great  battle  yesterday.  Victory  remains  with 
me,  but  I  have  lost  many  men.  The  loss  of  the  enemy,  still  more  consider- 
able, does  not  console  me.  I  write  these  two  lines  myself,  though  greatly 
fatigued,  to  tell  you  that  I  am  well,  and  that  I  love  you.  Wholly  thine, 

"NAPOLEON." 

The  fac  simile  of  this  letter,  written  under  such  circumstances,  will  be  ex- 
amined with  interest. 


/f>  f*t     »*'v  #"A^x^<^^ 


Y 

z. 


Man  amie — il  y  a  eu  hier  une  grande  bataille ;  la  victoire 

nt'esf  restee,  mais  j'ai  perdu  bien  du  monde  ;  la  perte 

de  Vennemi  qui  est  plus  considerable  encore,  ne  me  console  pas     Enfin 

je  t'ecrts  ces  2  lignes  moi-meme,  quoique  je  sois  bien  fatigue 

pour  te  dire  que  je  suis  bien  portant,  et  queje  faime. 

Tout  a  toi, 

Napoleon. 


The  dawn  of  the  morning  exhibited,  .upon  that  frozen  field,  perhaps  the 
most  frightful  spectacle  earth  has  ever  witnessed.  Nearly  forty  thousand 
men,  awfully  torn  by  cannon  balls,  were  prostrate  upon  the  bloodstained  ice 
and  snow.  A  wail  of  anguish  rose  from  the  extended  plain,  which  froze  the 
heart  of  the  beholder  with  terror.  Dismounted  cannon,  fragments  of  projec- 
tiles, guns,  swords,  horses,  dead  or  cruelly  mangled,  rearing,  plunging,  shriek- 
ing in  their  agony,  presented  a  scene  of  unparalleled  horror.  Napoleon's 
heart  was  most  deeply  moved.  His  feelings  of  sympathy  burst  forth  even 
in  one  of  his  bulletins.  "  This  spectacle,"  he  wrote,  "  is  fit  to  excite  in 
princes  a  love  of  peace  and  a  horror  of  war."  He  immediately  dispatched 
some  battalions  to  pursue  the  retreating  enemy,  while  he  devoted  all  his  en- 


1807.]  THE  FIELD  OF  EYLAU.  537 

ergies  to  the  relief  of  the  misery  spread  around  him.     In  the  evening  of  the 
same  day  he  wrote  another  letter  to  Josephine. 

"  Eylau,  February  9,  6  o'clock  in  the  evening,  1807. 

"  I  write  one  word,  my  love,  that  you  may  not  be  anxious.  The  enemy 
has  lost  the  battle,  40  pieces  of  cannon,  10  flags,  12,000  prisoners.  He  has 
suffered  horribly.  I  have  lost  many  men — 1600  killed,  and  three  or  four 
thousand  wounded.  Corbineau  was  killed  by  a  shell.*  I  was  strongly  at- 
tached to  that  officer,  who  had  great  merit.  It  gives  me  great  pain.  My 
horse-guard  has  covered  itself  with  glory.  Allemagne  is  wounded  danger- 
ously. Adieu,  my  love.  Wholly  thine,  NAPOLEON." 

Again,  in  the  night  of  the  next  day  he  wrote  to  that  noble  wife,  who  well 
knew  how  to  appreciate  the  delicacy  and  generosity  of  such  attentions  : 

"  Eylau,  February  11,  3  o'clock  in  the  morning. 

"  I  send  you  one  line,  my  love.  You  must  have  been  very  anxious.  I 
have  beaten  the  enemy  in  a  memorable  battle,  but  it  has  cost  me  many  brave 
men.  The  inclement  weather  constrains  me  to  return  to  my  cantonments. 
Do  not  indulge  in  grief,  I  entreat  you.  All  this  will  soon  end.  The  happi- 
ness of  seeing  you  will  lead  me  soon  to  forget  my  fatigues.  I  never  was  bet- 
ter. The  little  Tascher  has  conducted  nobly.  He  has  had  a  rough  trial. 
I  have  placed  him  near  me.  I  have  made  him  officer  of  ordnance.  Thus  his 
troubles  are  ended.  The  young  man  interests  me.  Adieu,  my  dearest.  A 
thousand  kisses.  NAPOLEON." 

In  another  letter  of  the  14th,  he  writes  : 

"My  love  !  I  am  still  at  Eylau.  The  country  is  covered  with  the  dead 
and  the  wounded.  This  is  not  the  pleasant  part  of  war.  One  suffers,  and 
the  soul  is  oppressed  to  see  so  many  victims.  I  am  well.  I  have  done  what 
I  wished.  I  have  repulsed  the  enemy,  compelling  him  to  abandon  his  pro- 
jects. You  must  be  very  anxious,  and  that  thought  afflicts  me.  Neverthe- 
less, tranquilize  yourself,  my  love,  and  be  cheerful.  Wholly  thine, 

"  NAPOLEON." 

*  Napoleon  was  giving  General  Corbineau  some  orders,  when  the  unfortunate  general  was  struck 
by  a  shell,  and,  in  the  words  of  Napoleon,  "  was  carried  away,  crushed,  annihilated  before  the 
Emperor's  face." 


538  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.  [CHAP.  XXXV. 


CHAPTER  XXXV. 

THE     MARCH     TO     FRIEDLAND. 

Renewed  Offers  of  Peace — Address  to  the  Legislative  Body  in  Paris — Proclamation — Offers  of 
Austria — Napoleon's  Reply — Employments  at  Osterode — Madame  de  Stael — Temple  of  the 
Madeleine — Foresight  of  the  Emperor — Letters — English  Diplomacy  at  Constantinople — Dant- 
zic — Attack  of  the  Allies — Friedland — Russia  sues  for  Peace — Address  to  the  Army. 

NAPOLEON  remained  eight  days  at  Eylau,  healing  the  wounds  of  his  army, 
and  gathering  supplies  for  the  protection  and  comfort  of  his  troops.  He  was 
daily  hoping  that  Frederick  William  and  Alexander  would  demand  no  more 
blood — that  they  would  propose  terms  of  peace.  It  is  a  fact  admitted  by  all, 
that  Napoleon,  in  his  wars  thus  far,  was  fighting  in  self-defense.  He  was 
the  last  to  draw  the  sword  and  the  first  to  propose  peace.  In  this  campaign, 
before  the  battle  of  Jena,  Napoleon  wrote  to  Frederick,  entreating  him  to 
spare  the  effusion  of  blood.  This  appeal  was  disregarded.  Scarce  had  the 
sun  gone  down  over  that  field  of  carnage  and  of  woe,  ere  Napoleon  wrote 
again,  pleading  for  humanity.  Again  was  his  plea  sternly  rejected.  Secret- 
ly the  Allies  collected  their  strength  and  fell  upon  him  in  his  cantonments. 
Napoleon  pursued  them  two  hundred  and  forty  miles,  and  destroyed  half  of 
their  army  upon  the  plain  of  Eylau.  For  five  days  he  waited  anxiously, 
hoping  that  his  vanquished  assailants  would  propose  peace.  They  were  si- 
lent. He  then,  magnanimously  triumphing  over  pride  of  spirit,  and  almost 
violating  the  dictates  of  self-respect,  condescended  again  to  plead  for  the 
cessation  of  hostilities.  In  the  following  terms,  conciliatory,  yet  dignified, 
he  addressed  the  King  of  Prussia  : 

"  I  desire  to  put  a  period  to  the  misfortunes  of  your  family,  and  to  organ- 
ize as  speedily  as  possible  the  Prussian  monarchy.  Its  intermediate  power  is 
necessary  for  the  tranquillity  of  Europe.  I  desire  peace  with  Russia  ;  and, 
provided  the  cabinet  of  St.  Petersburg  has  no  designs  upon  the  Turkish 
Empire,  I  see  no  difficulty  in  obtaining  it.  Peace  with  England  is  not  less 
essential  to  all  nations.  I  shall  have  no  hesitation  in  sending  a  minister  to 
Memil,  to  take  part  in  a  congress  of  France,  Sweden,  England,  Russia, 
Prussia,  and  Turkey.  But  as  such  a  congress  may  last  many  years,  which 
would  not  suit  the  present  condition  of  Prussia,  your  majesty  therefore  will, 
I  am  persuaded,  be  of  opinion  that  I  have  taken  the  simplest  method,  and 
one  which  is  most  likely  to  secure  the  prosperity  of  your  subjects.  At  all 
events,  I  entreat  your  majesty  to  believe  in  my  sincere  desire  to  re-establish 
amicable  relations  with  so  friendly  a  power  as  Prussia,  and  that  I  wish  to  do 
the  same  with  Russia  and  England." 

The  Allies  considered  this  renewed  proposal  of  Napoleon  but  an  indication 
of  his  weakness.  It  encouraged  them  to  redoubled  efforts.  They  resolved 
to  collect  still  more  numerous  swarms  of  Cossacks  from  the  barbarian  North, 
and,  with  increased  vigor,  to  prosecute  the  war.  Napoleon  had  also  made 


1807.]  THE  MARCH  TO  FRIEDLAND.  539 

proposals  to  Sweden  for  peace.  His  advances  were  there  also  repelled. 
The  King  of  Sweden  wrote  to  the  King  of  Prussia,  "  I  think  that  a  public 
declaration  should  be  made  in  favor  of  the  legitimate  cause  of  the  Bourbons, 
by  openly  espousing  their  interests,  which  is  plainly  that  of  all  established 
governments.  My  opinion  on  this  point  is  fixed  and  unalterable." 

This  arrogant  assumption,  that  France  had  not  a  right  to  choose  its  own 
form  of  government  and  elect  its  own  sovereign,  rendered  peace  impossible. 
Even  had  Napoleon,  like  Benedict  Arnold,  turned  traitor  to  his  country,  and 
endeavored  to  reinstate  the  rejected  Bourbons,  it  would  only  have  plunged 
France  anew  into  all  the  horrors  of  civil  war.  The  proudest  and  most  pow- 
erful nation  in  Europe  would  not  submit  to  dictation  so  humiliating.  Napo- 
leon truly  said,  "  The  Bourbons  can  not  return  to  the  throne  of  France  but 
over  the  dead  bodies  of  one  hundred  thousand  Frenchmen."  The  Bourbons 
did  finally  return  in  the  rear  of  the  combined  armies  of  despotic  Europe. 
But  the  Allies  crimsoned  the  Continent  with  blood,  and  struck  down  nearly 
a  million  of  Frenchmen  in  mutilation  and  death  ere  they  accomplished  the 
iniquitous  restoration.  But  where  are  the  Bourbons  now  ?  And  who  now 
sits  upon  the  throne  of  France  ?  This  is  a  lesson  for  the  nations. 

Just  before  the  campaign  of  Jena,  Napoleon  thus  addressed  the  legislative 
body  in  Paris  :  "  Princes,  magistrates,  soldiers,  citizens,  we  have  all  but  one 
object  in  our  several  departments — the  interest  of  our  country.  Weakness 
in  the  executive  is  the  greatest  of  all  misfortunes  to  the  people.  Soldier  or 
First  Consul,  I  have  but  one  thought ;  Emperor,  I  have  no  other  object — the 
prosperity  of  France.  I  do  not  wish  to  increase  its  territory,  hut  I  am  re- 
solved to  maintain  its  integrity.  I  have  no  desire  to  augment  the  influence 
which  we  possess  in  Europe,  but  I  will  not  permit  what  we  enjoy  to  decline- 
No  state  shall  be  incorporated  with  our  empire ;  but  I  will  not  sacrifice  my 
rights,  or  the  ties  which  unite  us,  to  other  states." 

Napoleon,  finding  that  there  was  no  hope  of  peace,  and  having  driven  his 
enemies  to  the  banks  of  the  Niemen,  prepared  to  return  to  his  winter  quar- 
ters upon  the  Vistula.  He  thus  addressed  his  army : 

"  Soldiers  !  we  were  beginning  to  taste  the  sweets  of  repose  at  our  winter 
quarters,  when  the  enemy  attacked  the  first  corps  on  the  Lower  Vistula. 
We  flew  to  meet  him.  We  pursued  him,  sword  in  hand,  eighty  leagues. 
He  was  driven  for  shelter  beneath  the  cannons  of  his  fortresses,  and  beyond 
the  Pregel.  We  have  captured  sixty  pieces  of  cannon,  sixteen  standards, 
and  killed,  wounded,  or  taken  more  than  forty  thousand  Russians.  The 
brave  who  have  fallen  on  our  side  have  fallen  nobly — like  soldiers.  Their 
families  shall  receive  our  protection.  Having  thus  defeated  the  whole  pro- 
jects of  the  enemy,  we  will  return  to  the  Vistula,  and  re-enter  our  winter 
quarters.  Whoever  ventures  to  disturb  our  repose  will  repent  of  it.  'Beyond 
the  Vistula  as  beyond  the  Danube,  we  shall  always  be  the  soldiers  of  the 
Grand  Army," 

Napoleon  himself  remained  at  Eylau  until  every  thing  was  removed.  He 
superintended  the  departure  of  the  several  divisions  of  the  army,  the  sick, 
the  wounded,  the  prisoners  and  the  artillery  taken  from  the  enemy.  He  had 
a  vast  number  of  sledges  constructed,  and  made  as  comfortable  as  possible, 
for  the  removal  of  the  sick  and  the  wounded.  More  than  six  thousand  were 


540 


NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE. 


[CHAP.  XXXV. 


KEMOVING    THE    WOUNDED 


thus  transported  over  two  hundred  miles,  to  their  warm  hospitals  on  the 
banks  of  the  Vistula. 

Austria  now  wished  for  an  excuse  to  join  the  Allies.*  She  was,  however, 
bound  by  the  most  solemn  treaties  not  again  to  draw  the  sword  against 
France.  Napoleon  had  cautiously  avoided  giving  her  any  offense.  But  she 
could  not  forget  the  disgrace  of  Ulm  and  Austerlitz.  As  an  entering  wedge 
to  the  strife,  she  proffered  her  services  as  mediator.  Napoleon  was  not  at 
all  deceived  as  to  her  intentions,  yet  promptly  replied  : 

"  The  Emperor  accepts  the  amicable  intervention  of  Francis  II.  for  the 

*  "The  battle  of  Eylau  should  have  been  the  signal  for  the  contracting  the  closest  alliance  with 
the  Russian  government,  the  instant  advance  of  loans  to  any  amount,  the  marching  of  sixty  thou- 
sand English  soldiers  to  the  nearest  points  of  embarkation.  This  was  the  crisis  of  the  war  ;  the 
imprudent  confidence  of  Napoleon  had  drawn  him  into  a  situation  full  of  peril ;  for  the  first  time 
in  his  life  he  had  been  overmatched  in  a  pitched  battle,  and  hostile  nations,  besetting  three  hundred 
leagues  of  communication  in  his  rear,  were  ready  to  intercept  his  retreat.  No  effort  on  the  part  of 
England  could  have  been  too  great  in  order  to  turn  to  the  best  account  so  extraordinary  a  combi- 
nation of  favorable  circumstances,  no  demonstration  of  confidence  too  unreserved  to  an  ally  capa. 
ble  of  such  sacrifices.  Can  there  be  a  doubt  that  such  a  vigorous  demonstration  would  at  once 
have  terminated  the  hesitations  of  Austria,  revived  the  spirit  of  Prussia,  and,  by  throwing  a  hund- 
red thousand  men  on  each  flank  of  his  line  of  communication,  driven  the  French  Emperor  to  a 
ruinous  retreat  1  Is  it  surprising  that  when,  instead  of  such  co-operation,  Alexander,  after  the  sac- 
rifices he  had  made,  met  with  nothing  but  refusals  in  his  applications  for  assistance,  and  saw  the 
land-force  of  England  wasted  on  useless  distant  expeditions,  when  every  bayonet  and  sabre  was  of 
value  on  the  banks  of  the  Alle,  he  should  have  conceived  a  distrust  of  the  English  alliance,  and 
formed  the  resolution  of  extricating  himself  as  soon  as  possible  from  the  hazardous  conflict  in 
which  he  was  now  exclusively  engaged  1" — Alison's  History  of  Europe,  vol.  ii.,  p.  516. 


1807.]  THE  MARCH  TO  FRIEDLANIX  541 

re-establishment  of  peace,  so  necessary  to  all  nations.  He  only  fears  that 
the  power  which,  hitherto,  seems  to  have  made  a  system  of  founding  its 
wealth  and  greatness  upon  the  divisions  of  the  Continent,  will  draw  from 
this  step  new  subjects  of  animosity  and  new  pretexts  for  dissensions.  How- 
ever, any  way  that  can  encourage  the  hope  of  the  cessation  of  bloodshed, 
ought  not  to  be  neglected  by  France,  which,  as  all  Europe  knows,  was  drag- 
ged in  spite  of  herself  into  this  war." 

At  the  same  time,  Napoleon  called  for  a  new  levy  of  eighty  thousand  men. 
But  five  months  before  he  had  called  out  the  same  number.  He  wished  to 
display  such  a  force  that  the  Allies  would  see  that  his  defeat  was  impossi- 
ble, and  that  they  would  consent  to  peace  without  further  shedding  of  blood. 
He  wrote  to  Cambaceres ;  "  It  is  very  important  that  this  measure  should 
be  adopted  with  alacrity.  A  single  objection  raised  in  the  Council  of  State 
or  in  the  Senate  would  weaken  me  in  Europe,  and  will  bring  Austria  upon 
us.  Then,  it  will  not  be  two  conscriptions,  but  three  or  four,  which  we  shall 
be  obliged  to  decree,  perhaps  to  no  purpose,  and  to  be  vanquished  at  last. 

"  A  conscription,  announced  and  resolved  upon  without  hesitation,  which 
perhaps  I  shall  not  call  for,  which  certainly  I  shall  not  send  to  the  active 
army,  for  I  am  not  going  to  wage  war  with  boys,  will  cause  Austria  to  drop 
her  arms.  The  least  hesitation,  on  the  contrary,  would  induce  her  to  resume 
them,  and  to  use  them  against  us.  No  objection,  I  repeat,  but  an  immediate 
and  punctual  execution  of  the  decree  which  I  send  you.  This  is  the  way  to 
have  peace — to  have  a  speedy,  a  magnificent  peace." 

Having  dispatched  this  decree  to  Paris,  Napoleon  sent  a  copy  to  Talley- 
rand, requesting  him  to  communicate  to  the  Austrian  government,  without 
circumlocution,  that  the  Emperor  had  divined  the  drift  of  the  mediation 
which  Austria  had  offered;  that  he  accepted  that  mediation  with  a  perfect 
knowledge  of  what  it  signified ;  that  to  offer  peace  was  well,  but  that  peace 
should  be  offered  with  a  white  truncheon  in  the  hand  ;  that  the  armaments 
of  Austria  were  a  very  unsuitable  accompaniment  to  the  offer  of  mediation. 

"  I  thus,"  said  he,  "  explain  myself  with  frankness,  to  prevent  calamities, 
and  to  save  Austria  from  them.  If  she  wishes  to  send  officers  to  ascertain 
our  strength,  we  engage  to  show  them  the  depots,  the  camps  of  reserve,  and 
the  divisions  on  the  march.  They  shall  see  that,  independently  of  the  100,000 
French  already  in  Germany,  a  second  army  of  100,000  men  is  preparing  to 
cross  the  Rhine,  to  check  any  hostile  movements  on  the  part  of  the  court  of 
Vienna."  These  measures,  so  eminently  sagacious,  prevented  Austria  from 
uniting  with  the  Allies,  and  thus,  for  the  time  at  least,  prevented  an  accumu- 
lation of  the  horrors  of  war. 

The  Bourbons  of  Spain  were  also  still  watching  for  an  opportunity  to  fall 
upon  Napoleon.  Believing  it  impossible  for  the  French  Emperor  to  escape 
from  his  entanglements  in  Poland,  surrounded  by  myriad  foes,  the  Spanish 
court  treacherously  summoned  the  nation  to  arms.  Napoleon  was  a  thou- 
sand miles  beyond  the  Rhine  England  had  roused  Spain  to  attack  him  in 
the  rear.  The  proclamation  was  issued  the  day  before  the  battle  of  Jena. 
That  amazing  victory  alarmed  the  perfidious  court  of  Ferdinand.  With 
characteristic  meanness,  the  Spanish  government  immediately  sent  word  to 
Napoleon  that  the  troops  were  raised  to  send  to  his  assistance  in  case  he 
VOL.  II.— Q 


542  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.  [CHAP.  XXXV. 

should  stand  in  need  of  them.  The  Emperor  smiled,  and,  affecting  to  be  a 
dupe,  thanked  Spain  for  its  zeal,  and  requested  the  loan  of  fifteen  thousand 
troops.  The  troops  could  not  be  refused. 

Napoleon  wrote  to  have  them  received  in  the  most  friendly  and  hospitable 
manner,  and  to  be  abundantly  supplied  with  provisions,  clothing,  and  money. 
They  were  stationed  in  the  garrisons  of  France,  and  French  soldiers,  drawn 
from  those  garrisons,  were  called  to  Poland.  These  repeated  acts  of  perfidy 
led  to  the  final  dethronement  of  the  Bourbons  of  Spain.  Their  overthrow 
promoted  the  ruin  of  Napoleon.  Their  continuance  upon  the  throne  would 
also  have  secured  that  ruin.  It  was  written  in  the  book  of  Divine  decrees 
that  Napoleon  must  rise  and  fall.  Human  energy  and  wisdom  could  not 
have  averted  his  final  discomfiture.  Had  Napoleon  joined  hands  with  the 
feudal  kings,  and  reigned  the  sovereign  of  the  nobles,  not  of  the  people ;  the 
defender  of  privilege,  not  the  advocate  of  equality,  he  might,  perhaps,  have 
disarmed  the  hostility  of  despots,  but  he  would  also  have  lost  the  heart  of 
France.  He  fell  magnificently ;  but  his  memory  is  embalmed  in  the  love  of 
the  French  people  ;  it  never  will  perish.  "  St.  Helena,"  says  Napoleon,  "was 
written  in  the  book  of  destiny." 

The  cheerless  months  of  departing  winter  passed  rapidly  away,  as  both 
parties  prepared  for  the  renewal  of  the  strife.  Napoleon  shared  the  encamp- 
ment of  his  troops.  He  taught  them  patience  and  fortitude  by  enduring 
himself  every  privation  which  they  were  called  to  experience.  His  brother 
Joseph,  in  a  letter,  complained  of  hardships  in  Naples.  Napoleon,  in  the 
following  terms,  replied  to  his  complaints : 

"  The  officers  of  our  staff  have  not  undressed  for  these  two  months,  and 
some  not  for  four  months  past.  I  myself  have  been  a  fortnight  without  tak- 
ing off  my  boots.  We  are  amid  snow  and  mud,  without  wine,  without 
bread,  eating  potatoes  and  meat,  making  long  marches  and  countermarches, 
without  any  kind  of  comfort,  fighting  in  general  with  bayonets  and  under 
grape,  the  wounded  having  to  be  carried  away  in  sledges,  exposed  to  the  air, 
two  hundred  miles." 

Napoleon  established  his  head-quarters  in  a  wretched  barn  at  a  place  called 
Osterode.  "If,  instead  of  remaining  in  a  hole  like  Osterode,"  says  Savary, 
**  where  every  one  was  under  his  eye,  and  where  he  could  set  his  whole  force 
in  motion,  the  Emperor  had  established  himself  in  a  great  town,  it  would 
have  required  three  months  to  do  what  he  effected  in  less  than  one." 

Here  Napoleon  not  only  attended  to  all  the  immense  interests  which  were 
gathered  round  him,  but  he  also  devoted  incessant  thought  to  the  govern- 
ment of  his  distant  empire.  The  portfolios  of  the  several  ministers  were 
sent  to  him  from  Paris  every  week.  Upon  the  day  of  their  reception  he  in- 
variably attended  to  their  contents,  and  returned  them  with  minute  directions 
The  most  trivial  as  well  as  the  most  important  matters  were  subject  to  his 
scrutiny,  There  had  been  composed  in  his  honor  verses,  which  he  deemed 
bad,  and  which  were  recited  in  the  theatres.  He  requested  other  verses  to 
be  substituted,  in  which  he  was  less  praised,  but  which  gave  utterance  to  no- 
ble thoughts. 

;'  The  best  way  to  praise  me"  said  he,  "  is  to  write  things  which  excite  he 
roic  sentiments  in  the  nation  " 


1807.] 


THE  MARCH  TO  FRIEDLAND. 


5*3 


HEAD-QUARTERS    AT   OSTERODE. 


With  great  care  he  studied  the  proceedings  of  the  French  Academy.  At 
one  of  those  meetings  the  memory  of  Mirabeau  was  violently  assailed.  Na- 
poleon wrote  to  Fouche  :  "  I  recommend  to  you,  let  there  be  no  reaction  in 
the  public  opinion.  Let  Mirabeau  be  mentioned  in  terms  of  praise.  There 
are  many  things  in  that  meeting  of  the  Academy  which  do  not  please  me. 
When  shall  we  grow  wiser  ?  When  shall  we  be  animated  by  that  genuine 
Christian  charity  which  shall  lead  us  to  desire  to  abuse  no  one  ?  When  shall 
we  refrain  from  awaking  recollections  which  send  sorrow  to  the  hearts  of  so 
many  persons  ?" 

With  intense  interest  he  watched  the  progress  of  education.  In  reference 
to  the  institution  for  the  education  of  girls  at  Ecouen,  he  wrote  to  Lacepede  : 
"  It  is  there  proposed  to  train  up  women,  wives,  mothers  of  families.  Make 
believers  of  them — not  reasoners.  The  weakness  of  the  brain  of  women,  the 
mobility  of  their  ideas,  their  destination  in  the  social  order,  the  necessity  for 
inspiring  them  with  a  perpetual  resignation,  and  a  mild  and  easy  charity — all 
this  renders  the  influence  of  religion  indispensable  for  them.  I  am  anxious 
that  they  should  leave  the  institution,  not  fashionable  belles,  but  virtuous 
women — that  their  attractive  qualities  may  be  those  of  the  heart." 

He  urged  that  they  should  study  "  history,  literature,  enough  of  natural 
philosophy  to  be  able  to  dispel  the  popular  ignorance,  around  them,  some- 
what of  medicine,  botany,  dancing — but  not  that  of  the  Opera — ciphering,  and 
all  sorts  of  needle-work  " 


544  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.  [CHAP.  XXXV. 

"  Their  apartments,"  he  wrote,  "  must  be  furnished  by  their  own  hands. 
They  must  make  their  chemises,  their  stockings,  their  dresses,  their  caps, 
and  they  must  be  able,  in  case  of  need,  to  make  clothes  for  their  infants.  I 
wish  to  make  these  young  girls  useful  women.  I  am  certain  that  I  shall 
thus  make  them  agreeable  and  attractive." 

He  was  informed  that  Madame  de  Stael  had  returned  to  Paris,  and  that 
she  was  striving  to  excite  hostility  against  his  government.  He  ordered  her 
to  be  expelled.  Some  of  his  friends  urged  him  not  to  do  so.  He  persisted, 
saying  that  if  he  did  not  interfere  she  would  compromise  good  citizens,  whom 
he  would  afterward  be  compelled  to  treat  with  severity. 

Of  Madame  de  Stael  Napoleon  said  at  St.  Helena,  "  She  was  a  woman  of 
considerable  talent  and  of  great  ambition,  but  so  extremely  intriguing  and 
restless  as  to  give  rise  to  the  observation  that  she  would  throw  her  friends 
into  the  sea,  that,  at  the  moment  of  drowning,  she  might  have  an  opportuni- 
ty of  saving  them.  I  was  obliged  to  banish  her  from  court.  She  was  ardent 
in  her  passions,  vehement  and  extravagant  in  her  expressions.  She  com- 
bined all  her  resources  to  make  an  impression  upon  the  general  of  the  army 
of  Italy.  Without  any  acquaintance  with  him,  she  wrote  to  him  when  afar 
off;  she  tormented  him  when  present.  If  she  was  to  be  believed,  the  union 
of  genius  with  a  little  insignificant  Creole,  incapable  of  appreciating  or  com- 
prehending him,  was  a  monstrosity.  Unfortunately,  the  general's  only  an- 
swer was  an  indifference  which  women  never  forgive,  and  which,  indeed,'' 
Napoleon  remarked  with  a  smile,  "  is  hardly  to  be  forgiven. 

"  Shortly  after  my  return  from  the  conquest  of  Italy,"  he  continued,  "  I 
was  accosted  by  Madame  de  Stael  at  a  grand  entertainment  given  by  M. 
Talleyrand.  She  challenged  me,  in  the  middle  of  a  numerous  circle,  to  tell 
her  who  was  the  greatest  woman  in  the  world.  I  looked  at  her,  and  coldly 
replied,  '  She,  madame,  who  has  borne  the  greatest  number  of  children.' 
Madame  de  Stael  was  at  first  a  little  disconcerted  ;  she  endeavored  to  recov- 
er herself  by  observing  that  it  was  reported  that  I  was  not  very  fond  of  wom- 
en. 'Pardon  me,  madame,'  I  replied,  'I  am  very  fond  of  my  wife.'  I  can 
not  call  her  a  wicked  woman,  but  she  was  a  restless  intriguer,  possessed  of 
considerable  talent  and  influence." 

Again  he  said  of  Madame  de  Stael :  "  Her  house  had  become  quite  an 
arsenal  against  me.  People  went  there  to  be  armed  knights.  She  endeav- 
ored to  raise  enemies  against  me,  and  fought  against  me  herself.  She  was 
at  once  Armida  and  Clorinda.  After  all,  it  can  not  be  denied  that  Madame 
de  Stael  is  a  very  distinguished  woman,  endowed  with  great  talents,  and 
possessing  a  very  considerable  share  of  wit.  She  will  go  down  to  posterity. 
It  was  more  than  once  intimated  to  me,  in  order  to  soften  me  in  her  favor, 
that  she  was  an  adversary  to  be  feared,  and  might  become  a  useful  ally. 
And  certainly  if,  instead  of  reviling  me  as  she  did,  she  had  spoken  in  my 
praise,  it  might,  no  doubt,  have  proved  advantageous  to  me.  Her  position 
and  her  abilities  gave  her  an  absolute  sway  over  the  saloons.  Their  influ- 
ence in  Paris  is  well  known.  Notwithstanding  all  she  had  said  against  me, 
and  all  that  she  will  yet  say,  I  am  certainly  far  from  thinking  that  she  has  a 
oad  heart.  The  fact  is,  that  she  and  I  have  waged  a  little  war  against  each 
other,  and  that  is  all." 


1807.]  THE  MARCH  TO  FRIEDLAND.  545 

He  then  added,  in  reference  to  the  numerous  writers  who  had  declaimed 
against  him,  "  I  am  destined  to  be  their  food.  I  have  but  little  fear  of  be- 
coming their  victim.  They  will  bite  against  granite.  My  history  is  made 
up  of  facts,  and  words  alone  can  not  destroy  them.  In  order  to  fight  against 
me  successfully,  somebody  should  appear  in  the  lists  armed  with  the  weight 
and  authority  of  facts  on  his  side.  It  would  then,  perhaps,  be  time  for  me  to 
be  moved.  But  as  for  all  other  writers,  whatever  be  their  talent,  their  efforts 
will  be  in  vain.  My  fame  will  survive.  When  they  wish  to  be  admired, 
they  will  sound  my  praise." 

While  at  Osterode,  nothing  seemed  to  be  overlooked  by  Napoleon's  all- 
comprehensive  and  untiring  energies. 

To  the  Minister  of  the  Interior  he  wrote  :  "An  effective  mode  of  encour- 
aging literature  would  be  to  establish  a  journal,  of  which  the  criticism  is  en- 
lightened, actuated  by  good  intentions,  and  free  of  that  coarse  brutality  which 
characterizes  the  existing  newspapers,  and  which  is  so  contrary  to  the  true 
interests  of  the  nation.  Journals  now  never  criticise  with  the  intention  of 
repressing  mediocrity,  guiding  inexperience,  or  encouraging  rising  merit. 
All  their  endeavor  is  to  wither,  to  destroy.-  Articles  should  be  selected  for 
the  journals  where  reasoning  is  mingled  with  eloquence,  where  praise  for 
deserved  merit  is  tempered  with  censure  for  faults.  Merit,  however  incon- 
siderate, should  be  sought  for  and  rewarded." 

Again  he  wrote  :  "You  should  occupy  yourself  with  the  project  of  estab- 
lishing a  university  for  literature — understanding  by  that  word  not  merely 
the  belles-lettres,  but  history  and  geography.  It  should  consist  of  at  least 
thirty  professorships,  so  linked  together  as  to  exhibit  a  living  picture  of  in- 
struction and  direction,  where  every  one  who  wishes  to  study  a  particular 
age  should  know  at  once  whom  to  consult — what  books,  monuments,  or 
chronicles  to  examine — where  every  one  who  wishes  to  travel  should  know 
where  to  receive  positive  instructions  as  to  the  government,  literature,  and 
physical  productions  of  the  country  which  he  is  about  to  visit. 

"  It  is  a  lamentable  fact,  that  in  this  great  country,  a  young  man  who 
wishes  to  study,  or  is  desirous  to  signalize  himself  in  any  department,  is 
obliged  for  long  to  grope  in  the  dark,  and  literally  to  lose  years  in  fruitless 
researches  before  he  discovers  the  true  repositories  of  the  information  for 
which  he  seeks.  I  desire  such  institutions.  They  have  long  formed  the 
subject  of  my  meditations,  because  in  the  course  of  my  various  labors  I  have 
repeatedly  experienced  their  want." 

A  vast  number  of  plans  for  the  Temple  of  the  Madeleine  were  sent  to 
him.  He  wrote:  "After  having  attentively  considered  the  different  plans 
submitted  to  my  examination,  I  have  not  felt  the  smallest  doubt  as  to  which 
I  should  adopt.  That  of  M.  Vignon  alone  fulfills  my  wishes.  It  is  a  temple 
which  I  desire,  not  a  church.  What  could  you  erect  as  a  church  which 
could  vie  with  the  Pantheon,  Notre  Dame,  or,  above  all,  with  St.  Peter's  at 
Rome  ?  Every  thing  in  the  temple  should  be  in  a  chaste,  severe,  and  dur- 
able style.  It  should  be  fitted  for  solemnities  at  all  times,  at  all  hours.  The 
imperial  throne  should  be  a  curule  chair  of  marble.  There  should  be  seats 
of  marble  for  the  persons  invited,  an  amphitheatre  of  marble  for  the  per- 
formers. No  furniture  should  be  admitted  but  cushions  for  the  seats.  All 


546  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.  [CHAP.  XXXV. 

should  be  of  granite,  of  marble,  and  of  iron.  With  this  view,  searches  should 
be  made  in  all  the  provinces  for  quarries  of  marble  and  granite.  They  will 
be  useful,  not  merely  for  this  monument,  but  for  others  which  I  have  in  view, 
and  which  will  require  thirty,  forty,  or  fifty  years  for  their  construction. 
Not  more  than  $600,000  should  be  required.  The  temple  of  Athens  cost 
not  much  more  than  one  half  that  sum.  Three  millions  of  dollars  ave 
been  absorbed,  I  know  not  how,  in  the  Pantheon.  But  I  should  not  object 
to  the  expenditure  of  a  million  of  dollars  for  the  construction  of  a  temple 
worthy  of  the  first  city  in  the  world." 

Thus  arose  the  exquisite  structure  of  the  Madeleine.  Napoleon  reared  it 
in  honor  of  the  Grand  Army.  He,  however,  secretly  intended  it  as  an  ex- 
piatory monument  to  Louis  XVI.,  Maria  Antoinette,  and  the  other  victims 
of  the  Revolution.  He  intended  thus  to  announce  it,  and  to  dedicate  it  as 
soon  as  the  fervor  of  revolutionary  passion  had  sufficiently  abated. 


THE    MADELEINE. 


Napoleon  learned  that  M.  Berthollet,  a  man  whom  he  particularly  es- 
teemed for  his  scientific  attainments,  was  in  some  pecuniary  embarrassment. 
He  immediately  wrote  him,  "  I  am  informed  that  you  are  in  need  of  thirty 
thousand  dollars.  My  treasurer  has  an  order  to  place  that  sum  at  your  dis- 
posal. I  am  very  glad  to  find  this  occasion  to  be  useful  to  you,  and  to  give 
you  a  proof  of  my  esteem." 

He  was  informed  by  the  correspondence,  which  he  paid  for  liberally  and 
read  with  care,  that  there  was  a  quarrel  in  the  Opera.  There  was  a  dispo- 
sition to  persecute  a  poor  machinist  in  consequence  of  the  failure  of  some 


1807.]  THE  MARCH  TO  FRIEDLAND.  547 

decorations  which  he  was  preparing.     Napoleon  wrote  to  the  Minister  of 

Police,  "  I  will  not  have  wrangling  any  where.     I  will  not  suffer  M to 

be  the  victim  of  an  accident.  My  custom  is  to  protect  the  unfortunate. 
Whether  actresses  ascend  into  the  clouds  or  ascend  not,  I  will  not  allow 
that  to  be  made  a  handle  for  intriguing." 

Severe,  and,  as  Napoleon  thought,  mischievous  attacks  were  made  in  two 
of  the  public  journals  upon  the  philosophers.  He  wrote,  "  It  is  necessary  to 
have  discreet  men  at  the  head  of  those  papers.  Those  two  journals  affect 
religion  even  to  bigotry.  Instead  of  attacking  the  excesses  of  the  exclusive 
system  of  some  philosophers,  they  attack  philosophy  and  human  knowledge. 
Instead  of  keeping  the  productions  of  the  age  within  bounds  by  sound  crit- 
icism, they  discourage  those  productions,  depreciate  and  debase  them." 

His  admirable  foresight  and  energy  had  soon  provided  the  army  with  all 
the  comforts  which  could  be  enjoyed  in  a  rude  encampment.  The  Russians, 
on  the  other  hand,  were  almost  starving.  They  wandered  about  in  maraud- 
ing bands,  pillaging  the  villages,  and  committing  the  most  frightful  excesses. 
Sometimes,  driven  by  hunger,  they  came  even  to  the  French  encampments 
and  begged  bread  of  the  French  soldiers.  By  signs  they  expressed  that  for 
several  days  they  had  eaten  nothing.  The  soldiers  received  them  as  broth- 
ers, and  fed  them  bountifully. 

To  promote  industry  in  Paris,  Napoleon  gave  orders  for  an  immense  quan- 
tity of  shoes,  boots,  harness,  and  gun  carriages  to  be  made  there.  To  trans- 
port these  articles  from  France  to  the  heart  of  Poland,  through  hostile  coun- 
tries infested  by  prowling  bands  of  shattered  armies,  he  devised  a  plan  as  in- 
genious and  effective  as  it  was  simple.  He  had  been  impressed,  in  the  quag- 
mires through  which  his  army  had  advanced,  with  the  little  zeal  which  the 
drivers  of  the  baggage-wagons  evinced,  and  their  want  of  courage  in  danger. 
He  had  previously,  with  great  success,  given  a  military  organization  to  the 
artillery-drivers.  He  nowr  resolved  to  do  the  same  with  the  baggage-drivers. 
These  men,  who  had  previously  been  but  humble  day-laborers,  now  became 
a  proud  corps  of  the  army,  with  the  honorable  title  of  Battalion  of  the  Train. 
They  were  dressed  in  uniform.  A  new  sentiment  of  honor  sprang  up  in 
their  hearts.  It  was  a  two  months' journey  from  Paris  to  the  Vistula.  They 
protected  their  equipages,  freighted  with  treasure,  and  urged  them  on  with 
the  same  zeal  with  which  the  artillerymen  defended  their  guns,  and  the  in- 
fantry and  cavalry  their  flags.  Animated  by  that  enthusiasm  which  Napo- 
leon had  thus  breathed  into  their  hearts,  they  now  appeared  insensible  to 
danger  or  fatigue. 

Such  were  the  multitude  of  objects  to  which  Napoleon  directed  his  atten- 
tion. The  eyes  of  all  Europe  were  fixed  upon  him  during  his  encampment 
amid  the  snows  of  Poland.  His  enemies  were  awed  by  his  energy  and  his 
achievements.  His  distant  empire  was  as  perfectly  and  as  minutely  under 
his  government  as  if  he  were  spending  his  days  in  his  cabinet  at  the  Tuiler- 
ies.  Though  thus  laden  wTith  a  burden  of  toil  and  care  such  as  never  before 
rested  upon  a  mortal  mind,  rarely  did  he  allow  a  day  to  pass  without  writing 
a  line  to  Josephine.  Often  he  sent  to  her  twice  a  day  a  brief  note  of  remem- 
brance and  of  love.  The  following  are  a  few  of  his  letters : 


548  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.  [CHAP.  XXXV. 

"  Posen,  December  2,  180G. 

"  It  is  the  anniversary  of  Austerlitz.  I  have  been  to  an  assembly  in  the 
city.  It  rains.  I  am  well.  I  love  you  and  desire  you.  The  Polish  ladies 
are  all  French,  but  there  is  only  one  woman  for  me.  Would  you  like  to 
know  her  ?  I  might,  indeed,  draw  you  her  portrait,  but  I  should  have  to  flat- 
ter the  portrait  itself  quite  too  much  before  you  could  recognize  yourself  in 
it.  These  nights  here  are  long,  all  alone.  Entirely  thine,  NAPOLEON." 

"  Posen,  December  3,  1806,  noon. 

"  I  have  received  yours  of  November  26.  Two  things  I  observe  in  it. 
You  say  I  do  not  read  your  letters.  This  is  an  unkind  thought.  I  do  not 
thank  you  for  so  unfavorable  an  opinion.  You  also  tell  me  that  that  neglect 
must  be  caused  by  some  dream  of  another.  And  yet  you  add  that  you  are 
not  jealous.  I  have  long  observed  that  angry  people  insist  that  they  are  not 
angry ;  that  those  who  are  frightened  say  that  they  have  no  fear.  You  are 
thus  convicted  of  jealousy.  I  am  delighted.  As  to  this  matter,  you  are 
wrong.  I  think  of  any  thing  rather  than  that.  In  the  deserts  of  Poland  one 
has  little  opportunity  to  dream  of  beauty.  I  gave  a  ball  yesterday  to  the  no- 
bility of  the  province.  There  were  enough  fine  women,  many  rich,  many 
badly  dressed,  although  in  Parisian  fashion.  Adieu,  my  love.  I  am  well. 
Entirely  thine,  NAPOLEON-" 

"  Posen,  December  3,  6  o'clock,  evening. 

"  I  have  received  your  letter  of  November  27,  in  which  I  perceive  that 
your  little  head  is  quite  turned.  I  often  recall  the  line, 

"  '  Woman's  longing  is  a  consuming  flame.' 

You  must  calm  yourself.  I  have  written  to  you  that  I  am  in  Poland,  and 
that  as  soon  as  our  winter  quarters  are  established  you  can  come.  We  must 
wait  some  days.  The  greater  one  becomes,  the  less  can  he  have  his  own 
way.  The  ardor  of  your  letter  shows  me  that  all  you  beautiful  women  rec- 
ognize no  barriers.  Whatever  you  wish  must  be.  -  As  for  me,  I  declare  I 
am  the  veriest  slave.  My  master  has  no  compassion.  That  master  is  the 
nature  of  things.  Adieu,  my  love.  Be  happy.  The  one  of  whom  1  wish  to 

speak  to  you  is  Madame  L .     Every  one  censures  her.     They  assure  me 

she  is  more  a  Prussian  than  a  French  woman.  I  do  not  believe  it.  But  I 
think  her  a  silly  woman,  and  one  who  says  only  silly  things.  Thine  entirely, 

"  NAPOLEQN." 

"  Golimin,  Dec.  29,  1806,  5  o'clock  in  the  morning. 

"  I  can  write  you  but  a  word,  my  love.  I  am  in  a  wretched  barn.  I  have 
beaten  the  Russians.  We  have  taken  from  them  30  pieces  of  cannon,  their 
baggage,  and  6000  prisoners.  The  weather  is  dismal.  It  rains.  We  are 
in  mud  up  to  our  knees.  In  two  days  we  shall  be  at  Warsaw,  from  which 
place  I  will  write  to  you.  Wholly  thine,  NAPOLEON." 

"Warsaw,  January  18,  1807. 

"  I  fear  that  you  are  greatly  disappointed  that  our  separation  must  still  be 
prolonged  for  several  weeks.  I  expect  of  you  more  force  of  character. 


1807.]  THE  MARCH  TO  FRIEDLAND.  549 

They  tell  me  that  you  weep  continually.  Fy  !  How  unbecoming  that  is. 
Your  letter  of  the  7th  of  January  gave  me  much  pain.  Be  worthy  of  me, 
and  show  more  force  of  character.  Make  a  suitable  appearance  at  Paris, 
and,  above  all,  be  contented.  I  am  very  well,  and  I  love  you  very  much ; 
but  if  you  continually  weep,  I  shall  think  you  to  be  without  courage  and 
without  character.  I  do  not  love  the  spiritless.  An  empress  should  have 
energy.  NAPOLEON." 

"  January  23,  1807. 

"I  have  received  your  letter  of  the  15th  of  January.  It  is  impossible  that 
I  should  permit  ladies  to  undertake  such  a  journey — wretched  roads,  miry 
and  dangerous.  Return  to  Paris.  Be  there  cheerful,  contented.  I  could 
but  smile  at  your  remark  that  you  took  a  husband  in  order  to  live  with  him. 
I  thought,  in  my  ignorance,  that  woman  was  made  for  man ;  man  for  his 
country,  his  family,  and  glory.  Pardon  my  ignorance.  One  is  continually 
learning  with  our  beautiful  ladies.  Adieu,  my  love.  Think  how  much  I 
suffer  in  not  being  able  to  call  you  here.  Say  to  yourself,  '  It  is  a  proof  how 
I  am  precious  to  him.'  NAPOLEON." 

Without  date. 

"  My  love  !  Your  letter  of  the  20th  of  January  has  given  me  much  pain. 
It  is  too  sad.  Behold  the  evil  of  not  being  a  little  devout.  You  tell  me  that 
your  happiness  makes  your  glory.  That  is  not  generous.  You  ought  to 
say,  The  happiness  of  others  is  my  glory.  That  is  not  conjugal.  You  must 
say,  The  happiness  of  my  husband  is  my  glory.  That  is  not  maternal.  You 
should  say,  The  happiness  of  my  children  is  my  glory.  But  since  others, 
your  husband,  your  children,  can  not  be  happy  without  a  little  glory,  you 
should  not  say  fy  !  at  it  so  much.  Josephine,  your  heart  is  excellent,  but 
your  reason  feeble.  Your  perceptions  are  exquisite,  but  your  deliberations 
are  less  wise. 

"  Enough  of  fault-finding.  I  wish  that  you  should  be  cheerful,  contented 
with  your  lot,  and  that  you  should  obey,  not  murmuring  and  weeping,  but 
with  alacrity  of  heart  and  with  some  degree  of  satisfaction  with  all.  Adieu, 
my  love.  I  leave  to-night  to  run  through  my  advance  posts. 

"  NAPOLEON." 

From  his  rude  encampment  at  Osterode  he  wrote,  the  27th  of  March,  "I 
desire,  more  strongly  than  you  can,  to  see  you,  and  to  live  in  tranquillity.  I 
am  interested  in  other  things  besides  war.  But  duty  is  paramount  over 
all.  All  my  life  I  have  sacrificed  tranquillity,  interest,  happiness,  to  my  des- 
tiny." 

The  Emperor  was  exceedingly  attached  to  the  little  Napoleon,  to  whom 
he  often  refers  in  his  letters.  He  was  the  son  of  Hortense  and  of  his  brother 
Louis.  The  boy,  five  years  of  age,  was  exceedingly  beautiful,  and  developed 
all  those  energetic  and  magnanimous  traits  of  character  which  would  win,  in 
the  highest  degree,  the  admiration  of  Napoleon.  The  Emperor  had  decided 
to  make  this  young  prince  his  heir.  All  thoughts  of  the  divorce  were  now 
relinquished.  Early  in  the  spring  of  this  year  the  child  was  suddenly  taken 


550  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.  [CHAP.  XXXV. 

sick  of  the  croup,  and  died.  The  sad  tidings  were  conveyed  to  Napoleon  in 
his  cheerless  stable  at  Osterode.  It  was  a  terrible  blow  to  his  hopes  and  to 
his  affections.  He  sat  down  in  silence,  buried  his  face  in  his  hands,  and  for 
a  long  time  seemed  lost  in  painful  musings.  No  one  ventured  to  disturb  his 
grief. 

Napoleon  was  now  the  most  powerful  monarch  in  Europe.  But  he  was 
without  an  heir.  His  death  would  plunge  France  into  anarchy,  as  ambitious 
chieftains,  each  surrounded  by  his  partisans,  would  struggle  for  the  throne. 
Mournfully  and  anxiously  he  murmured  to  himself,  again  and  again,  "  To 
whom  shall  I  leave  all  this."  Napoleon  was  ambitious.  He  wished  to  send 
down  his  name  to  posterity  as  the  greatest  benefactor  France  had  ever 
known.  To  accomplish  this,  he  was  ready  to  sacrifice  comfort,  health,  his 
affections,  and  that  which  he  deemed  least  of  all,  his  life.  He  loved  Jose- 
phine above  all  other  created  beings.  He  deceived  himself  by  the  belief  that 
it  would  be  indeed  a  noble  sacrifice  to  France  to  bind,  as  an  offering  upon 
the  altar  of  his  country,  even  their  undying  love.  He  knew  that  the  ques- 
tion of  the  divorce  would  again  arise.  The  struggle  now  resumed  in  his 
heart  between  his  love  for  Josephine  and  his  desire  to  found  a  stable  dynasty, 
and  to  transmit  his  name  to  posterity,  was  fearful.  Strong  as  was  his  self- 
control,  his  anguish  was  betrayed  by  his  pallid  cheek,  his  restless  eye,  his 
loss  of  appetite  and  of  sleep. 

To  Josephine,  apprehensive  of  the  result,  the  bereavement  was  inexpress- 
ibly dreadful.  Overwhelmed  with  anguish,  she  wept  day  and  night.  This 
little  boy,  Charles  Napoleon,  Prince  Royal  of  Holland,  died  at  the  Hague, 
5th  of  May,  1807.  He  was  the  elder  brother  of  Louis  Napoleon,  now  Em- 
peror of  France.  Upon  receiving  the  intelligence  of  his  death,  Napoleon 
thus  wrote  to  Josephine  : 

"May  14,  1807. 

"  I  can  appreciate  the  grief  which  the  death  of  poor  Napoleon  has  caused 
you.  You  can  understand  the  anguish  which  I  experience.  I  could  wish 
that  I  were  with  you,  that  you  might  become  moderate  and  discreet  in  your 
grief.  You  have  had  the  happiness  of  never  losing  any  children.  But  it  is 
one  of  the  conditions  and  sorrows  attached  to  suffering  humanity.  Let  me 
hear  that  you  have  become  reasonable  and  tranquil.  Would  you  magnify 
my  anguish  ?  Adieu,  my  love.  NAPOLEON." 

In  the  following  terms  he  wrote  to  Hortense  : 

"  My  daughter  ! — Every  thing  which  reaches  me  from  the  Hague  informs 
me  that  you  are  unreasonable.  However  legitimate  may  be  your  grief,  it 
should  have  its  bounds.  Do  not  impair  your  health.  Seek  consolation. 
Know  that  life  is  strewed  with  so  many  dangers,  and  may  be  the  source  of 
so  many  calamities,  that  death  is  by  no  means  the  greatest  of  evils. 

"  Your  affectionate  father,  NAPOLEON. 

"  Finkenstein,  May  20,  1807." 

Four  days  after  he  thus  wrote  to  Josephine  : 


1807.]  THE  MARCH  TO  FRIEDLAND.  531 

"  May  24,  1807. 

"  I  have  received  your  letter  from  Lacken.  I  see,  with  pain,  that  your 
grief  is  still  unabated,  and  that  Hortense  is  not  yet  with  you.  She  is  un- 
reasonable, and  merits  not  to  be  loved,  since  she  loves  but  her  children. 
Strive  to  calm  yourself,  and  give  me  no  more  pain.  For  every  irremediable 
evil  we  must  find  consolation.  Adieu,  my  love.  Wholly  thine, 

"NAPOLEON." 

Again  he  writes  to  Hortense  on  the  2d  of  June : 

"  My  daughter ! — You  have  not  written  me  one  word  in  your  just  and 
great  grief.  You  have  forgotten  every  thing,  as  if  you  had  no  other  loss  to 
endure.  I  am  informed  that  you  no  longer  love — that  you  are  indifferent  to 
every  thing.  I  perceive  it  by  your  silence.  That  is  not  right.  It  is  not 
what  you  promised  me.  Your  mother  and  I  are  nothing,  then.  Had  I  been 
at  Malmaison,  I  should  have  shared  your  anguish ;  but  I  should  also  wish 
that  you  would  restore  yourself  to  your  best  friends.  Adieu,  my  daughter. 
Be  cheerful.  We  must  learn  resignation.  Cherish  your  health,  that  you 
may  be  able  to  fulfill  all  your  duties.  My  wife  is  very  sad  in  view  of  your 
condition.  Do  not  add  to  her  anguish. 

.     "  Your  affectionate  father,  NAPOLEON." 

Again  he  wrote : 

"  My  daughter! — I  have  received  your  letter  dated  Orleans.  Your  griefs 
touch  my  heart.  But  I  would  wish  that  you  would  summon  more  fortitude. 
To  live  is  to  suffer.  The  sincere  man  struggles  incessantly  to  gain  the  vic- 
tory over  himself.  I  do  not  love  to  see  you  unjust  toward  the  little  Louis 
Napoleon,  and  toward  all  your  friends.  Your  mother  and  I  cherish  the  hope 
to  be  more  in  your  heart  than  we  are.  I  have  gained  a  great  victory  on  the 
14th  of  June.  I  am  well,  and  I  love  you  intensely.  Adieu,  my  daughter! 
I  embrace  you  with  my  whole  heart.  NAPOLEON." 

Whde  Napoleon  was  encamped  upon  the  snows  of  Poland,  waiting  for 
the  return  of  spring,  all  his  energies  of  body  and  mind  were  incessantly  act- 
ive. Often  he  made  the  rounds  of  his  cantonments,  riding  upon  horseback 
ninety  miles  a  day,  through  storms,  and  snow,  and  mire.  He  was  daily  in 
correspondence  with  his  agents  for  the  recruiting  of  his  army,  and  for  the 
transportation  of  the  enormous  supplies  which  they  required.  He  kept  a 
watchful  eye  upon  every  thing  transpiring  in  Paris,  and  guided  all  the  move- 
ments of  the  government  there.  During  the  long  winter  nights  he  was  ru- 
minating upon  the  general  policy  he  should  adopt  in  disarming  enemies,  in 
rewarding  friends,  in  forming  alliances,  and  in  shielding  France  from  further 
insults. 

England  now  made  the  desperate  endeavor  to  force  Turkey  into  the  alii, 
ance  against  France.  Failing  entirely  to  accomplish  this  by  diplomacy,  she 
resorted  to  measures  which  no  one  has  had  the  boldness  to  defend.*  An  En- 

*  "Mr-  Wellesley  Pole,  in  the  absence  of  Mr.  Arbuthnot,  the  British  minister,"  says  Alison, 


552  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.  [CHAP.  XXXV. 

glish  fleet  forced  the  Dardanelles,  scorning  the  feeble  batteries  of  the  Turks. 
The  squadron  anchored  in  front  of  Constantinople,  with  its  guns  pointed  at 
its  thronged  dwellings.  The  summons  was  laconic  :  "  Dismiss  the  French 
minister,  surrender  your  fleet  to  us,  and  join  our  alliance  against  France,  or 
in  one  half  hour  we  will  lay  your  city  in  ashes." 

But  Napoleon  had  placed  in  Constantinople  an  embassador  equal  to  the 
emergence.  General  Sebastiani  roused  all  the  vigor  of  the  Turkish  govern* 
ment.  He  beguiled  the  foe  into  a  parley.  While  this  parley  was  protract. 
ed  day  after  day,  the  whole  population  of  the  city — men,  women,  and  chiL 
dren,  Turks,  Greeks,  and  Armenians — threw  themselves  into  the  work  of 
rearing  defenses.  French  engineers  guided  the  laborers.  In  less  than  a 
week  917  pieces  of  cannon  and  200  mortars  were  frowning  upon  the  bat- 
teries. The  squadron  was  now  compelled  to  retreat.  With  difficulty  it 
forced  its  way  back,  through  the  Strait,  pelted  all  the  way  by  the  feeble  bat- 
teries of  the  Turks.  The  English  lost  in  this  audacious  expedition  two  hund- 
red and  fifty  men.  The  Turks,  thus  influenced,  became  more  cordially  al- 
lied to  France.  Napoleon  was  extremely  gratified  at  the  result. 

Twenty-five  thousand  of  the  Allies  had  intrenched  themselves  in  Dantzic. 
The  conquest  of  the  city  was  a  matter  of  great  moment  to  Napoleon.  The 
conduct  of  the  siege  was  intrusted  to  Marshal  Lefebvre.  He  was  a  brave 
officer,  but  an  ignorant  man.  He  was  extremely1  impatient  of  the  slow  prog- 
ress of  the  engineers,  and  was  restless  to  head  his  troops  and  rush  to  the  as- 
sault. Napoleon,  with  his  head-quarters  about  a  hundred  miles  from  Dant' 
zic,  kept  up  a  daily  correspondence  with  his  marshal  upon  the  progress  of 
the  works.  It  frequently,  during  the  siege,  became  necessary  for  Napoleon 
personally  to  interpose  to  settle  disputes  between  Marshal  Lefebvre  and  his 
officers.  The  following  letter  to  the  impetuous  soldier  finely  develops  the 
prudence  and  the  candor  of  the  Emperor :  \ 

"You  can  do  nothing  but  find  fault,  abuse  our  allies,  and  change  your 
opinion  at  the  pleasure  of  the  first  comer.  You  wanted  troops.  I  sent  you 
them.  I  am  preparing  more  for  you  ;  and  you,  like  an  ingrate,  continue  to 
complain,  without  thinking  even  of  thanking  me.  You  treat  our  allies,  espe- 
cially the  Poles  and  the  Baden  troops,  without  any  delicacy.  They  are  not 
used  to  stand  fire  ;  but  they  will  get  accustomed  to  it.  Do  you  imagine  that 
we  were  as  brave  in  '92  as  we  are  now,  after  fifteen  years  of  war  ?  Have 
some  indulgence,  then,  old  soldier  as  you  are,  for  the  young  soldiers  who  are 
starting  in  the  career,  and  who  have  not  yet  your  coolness  in  danger.  The 
Prince  of  Baden,  whom  you  have  with  you,  has  chosen  to  leave  the  pleas- 
ures of  the  court  for  the  purpose  of  leading  his  troops  into  fire. 

"  Pay  him  respect,  and  give  him  credit  for  a  zeal  which  his  equals  rarely 
imitate.  The  breasts  of  your  grenadiers,  which  you  are  for  bringing  in  every 
where,  will  not  throw  down  walls.  You  must  allow  your  engineers  to  act, 

"who  was  sick  of  fever  presented  himself  before  the  Divan  in  his  riding-dress,  with  a  whip  in  his 
hand,  and  peremptorily  announced  that  if  the  demands  of  Russia  were  not  instantly  acceded  to,  a 
British  fleet  would  enter  the  Dardanelles,  and  lay  the  capital  in  ashes.  Intimidated  by  this  bold 
language  and  by  the  haughty  air  of  the  person  who  used  it,  and  secretly  aware  of  the  weakness  of 
the  defenses  of  the  capital,  the  counselors  of  Selim  recommended  a  temporary  concession  to  the  de- 
mands of  the  allied  powers."  This  is  surely  a  novel  exhibition  of  diplomatic  courtesy,  and  on« 
which  would  perhaps  have  more  influence  in  Turkey  than  in  some  other  latitudes. 


1807.]  THE  MARCH  TO  FRIEDLAND.  553 

and  listen  to  the  advice  of  General  Chasseloup,  who  is  a  man  of  science,  and 
from  whom  you  ought  not  to  withdraw  your  confidence  at  the  suggestion  of 
the  first  petty  caviler,  pretending  to  judge  of  what  he  is  incapable  of  com 
prehending.  Reserve  the  courage  of  your  grenadiers  for  the  moment  when 
science  shall  tell  you  that  it  may  be  usefully  employed ;  and,  in  the  mean 
time,  learn  patience.  It  is  not  worth  while,  for  the  sake  of  a  few  days, 
which,  besides,  I  know  not  how  to  employ  just  now,  to  get  some  thousand 
men  killed  whose  lives  it  is  possible  to  spare  Show  the  calmness,  the  con- 
sistency, the  steadiness  which  befit  your  age  Your  glory  is  in  taking  Dant- 
zic.  Take  that  place,  and  you  shall  be  satisfied  with  me." 

On  the  26th  of  May,  Dantzic  capitulated,  after  a  terrific  conflict  of  fifty- 
one  days.  From  the  abundant  stores  which  the  Allies  had  gathered  there, 
Napoleon  immediately  sent  a  million  of  bottles  of  wine  to  his  troops  in  their 
cantonments.  While  the  snows  were  melting,  and  the  frost  yielding  to  the 
returning  sun  of  spring,  it  was  hardly  possible  for  either  army  to  resume 
hostilities.  The  heavy  cannon  could  not  be  drawn  through  the  miry  roads. 
Though  Napoleon  was  fifteen  hundred  miles  from  his  capital,  in  a  hostile 
country,  and  with  Russia,  Prussia,  Sweden,  and  England  combined  against 
him,  his  genius,  his  foresight,  his  indefatigable  activity  supplied  his  troops 
with  every  comfort.  The  allied  army  was,  on  the  contrary,  suffering  every 
privation.  The  starving  soldiers,  to  appease  the  cravings  of  want,  desolated 
extended  tracts  of  country  with  violence  and  plunder. 

The  allied  army  now  consisted  of  140,000  men,  of  which  100,000  could 
be  speedily  concentrated  upon  a  field  of  battle.  Napoleon,  with  400,000 
men  dispersed  along  his  extended  line  of  march,  and  stationed  in  the  for- 
tresses of  his  wide  frontier,  could,  in  a  few  days,  concentrate  160,000  men 
upon  any  spot  between  the  Niemen  and  the  Vistula.  With  his  accustomed 
vigilance  and  forecast,  early  in  May  he  ordered  all  the  divisions  of  his  army 
to  take  the  field,  and  to  be  daily  exercised  in  preparation  for  the  resumption 
of  hostilities. 

Early  in  June  the  Allies  made  a  sudden  rush  from  their  intrenchments, 
hoping  to  surround  and  overwhelm  the  division  of  Marshal  Ney.  This  was 
the  signal  for  Napoleon's  whole  army,  extended  along  a  line  of  one  hundred 
and  fifty  miles,  to  advance  and  to  concentrate.  They  did  advance.  The 
opposing  hosts  every  where  met  The  roar  of  musketry  and  of  artillery,  the 
rush  of  squadrons,  and  the  clash  of  sabres,  resounded  by  day  and  by  night. 
Napoleon  had  matured  all  his  plans.  With  iron  energy  he  drove  on  to  the 
result.  By  skillful  maneuvering,  he  every  where  outnumbered  his  foes. 
Over  mountains,  across  rivers,  through  defiles  and  forests,  he  pursued  the 
retiring  foe. 

Field  after  field  was  red  with  blood.  Mothers,  with  their  babes,  fled  from 
their  homes  before  the  sweep  of  this  awful  avalanche  of  woe.  In  each  vil- 
lage the  Russians  made  a  stand.  For  an  hour  the  tempest  of  war  roared 
and  flashed  around  the  doomed  dwellings.  The  crash  of  cannon  balls,  the 
explosion  of  shells,  the  storm  of  bullets  speedily  did  its  work.  From  the 
smouldering  ruins  the  panting,  bleeding  Russians  fled.  In  the  blazing  streets 
horsemen  and  footmen  met,  hand  to  hand,  in  the  desperate  fight.  Ten  thou. 
sand  homes  were  utterly  desolated  Women  and  children  were  struck  by 


554  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.  [CHAP.  XXXV. 

bullets  and  balls.  Fields  of  grain  were  trampled  in  the  mire.  Still  the 
storm  of  war  swept  on  and  swept  on,  mercilessly,  unrelentingly.  Regard- 
less of  prayers  and  tears,  and  blood  and  woe,  barbarian  Russians  fled,  and 
ferocious  Frenchmen  pursued. 

Every  vile  man  on  earth  loves  the  army  and  the  license  of  war.  No  earth- 
ly power  can  restrain  the  desperadoes  who  throng  the  rank  and  file  of  con- 
tending hosts.  From  such  an  inundation  of  depraved  and  reckless  men  there 
is  no  escape.  The  farm-house,  the  village,  the  city  is  alike  exposed.  Hu- 
manity shudders  in  contemplating  the  atrocities  which  are  perpetrated.  The 
carnage  of  the  field  of  battle  is  the  very  least  of  the  calamities  of  war.  Na- 
poleon was  indefatigable  in  his  efforts.  His  energy  appeared  superhuman. 
He  seemed  neither  to  eat,  nor  sleep,  nor  rest.  He  was  regardless  of  rain, 
of  mud,  of  darkness,  of  storms.  Horse  after  horse  sunk  beneath  him,  as, 
with  his  staff,  like  a  whirlwind  he  swept  along  his  lines,  rousing,  animating, 
energizing  his  mighty  hosts,  advancing  over  a  space  of  fifty  leagues. 

It  was  on  the  5th  of  June  that  the  storm  of  war  commenced.  Day  and 
night  it  continued  unabated,  as  the  Russians,  fighting  with  desperation,  sul- 
lenly retreated  before  their  foes.  On  the  10th  the  Allies  had  concentrated, 
upon  the  field  of  Heilsberg,  on  the  banks  of  the  River  Alle,  90,000  men. 
Here  they  planted  themselves  firmly  behind  intrenchments,  fortified  by  five 
hundred  pieces  of  heavy  artillery.  These  were  loaded  to  the  muzzle  with 
grape-shot  to  mow  down  the  French  advancing  over  the  open  plain. 

In  utter  recklessness  of  life,  30,000  Frenchmen,  rending  the  skies  with 
their  wild  hurrahs,  rushed  upon  the  muzzles  of  these  guns.  Murat  and  Ney 
headed  the  desperate  assault.  Napoleon  was  not  there  to  witness  a  scene 
of  butchery  so  inexcusable.  The  Russian  batteries  opened  upon  the  bare 
bosoms  of  these  moving  masses,  and  the  whole  heads  of  columns  were  swept 
away.  Still  on  and  on  the  impetuous  host  rushed,  with  oaths  and  shouts, 
wading  through  blood,  and  trampling  over  piles  of  the  slain.  They  pour 
over  the  intrenchments,  sabre  the  gunners,  shout  victory. 

Suddenly  the  tramp  of  iron  hoofs  is  heard.  Trumpets  sound  the  charge. 
A  squadron  of  horse,  ten  thousand  strong,  sweeps  down  upon  the  French 
with  resistless  plunge.  The  shout  of  victory  sinks  away  into  the  wail  of 
death.  The  French  who  had  scaled  the  ramparts  were  overwhelmed,  annu 
hilated.  Thus  the  tide  of  battle  ebbed  and  flowed  all  day  long.  Night 
came.  Dense  volumes  of  smoke  canopied  the  field  of  demoniac  war  with 
the  sulphurous  gloom  of  the  world  of  woe.  By  the  light  of  the  cannon's 
flash  the  surges  of  battle  still  rolled  to  and  fro.  Clouds  gathered  in  the 
black  sky.  A  dismal  rain  began  to  fall,  as  if  Nature  herself  wept  over  the 
crimes  of  the  children  of  earth.  Midnight  came.  The  booming  of  the  guns 
gradually  ceased,  as  the  soldiers,  utterly  exhausted  with  a  conflict  of  twelve 
hours,  threw  themselves,  amid  the  dying  and  the  dead,  upon  the  storm- 
drenched  and  gory  ground.  Late  in  the  night  Napoleon  came  galloping 
upon  the  field.  He  was  exceedingly  displeased  at  the  senseless  butchery  to 
which  his  impetuous  generals  had  led  the  men. 

The  dawn  of  a  gloomy  morning  of  wind  and  rain  revealed  to  both  armies 
an  awful  spectacle.  The  two  hostile  hosts  were  within  half  cannon  shot  of 
each  other.  The  narrow  space  between  was  covered  with  eighteen  thousand 


1807.]  THE  MARCH  TO  FRIEDLAND.  555 

of  the  dead  and  wounded.  All  the  dead  and  many  of  the  wounded  had  been 
stripped  entirely  naked  by  those  wretches,  both  male  and  female,  who  ever, 
in  great  numbers,  follow  in  the  wake  of  armies  for  such  plunder.  These 
naked  bodies,  crimsoned  with  gore,  mutilated  by  balls  and  by  ghastly  sabre 
strokes,  presented  an  aspect  of  war  stripped  of  all  its  pageantry.  By  mutual, 
instinctive  consent,  both  parties  laid  aside  their  guns,  and  hastened  to  the 
relief  of  the  wounded  and  to  the  burial  of  the  dead.  How  strange  the  scene! 
Russians  and  Frenchmen  were  now  mingled  together  upon  the  same  field, 
in  perfect  amity,  vying  with  each  other  in  deeds  of  kindness. 

Each  army  then  resumed  its  position  to  renew  the  fight.  The  Russians 
rallied  behind  their  intrenchments,  the  French  upon  the  open  plain.  Napo- 
leon, ever  anxious  to  spare  the  needless  effusion  of  blood,  so  skillfully  ma- 
neuvered, preparing  to  attack  his  foes  in  the  rear,  that  the  Russians  were 
soon  compelled,  without  the  firing  of  a  gun,  to  abandon  their  position  and 
to  continue  their  retreat.  All  the  night  of  the  12th  of  June  the  Russians 
were  precipitately  retiring.  Though  dreadfully  fatigued,  they  continued  their 
flight  the  whole  of  the  next  day.  They  were  compelled  to  make  another 
stand  upon  the  plain  of  Friedland.  Their  doom  was  sealed.  Napoleon  had 
driven  them  into  the  elbow  of  a  river,  and  had  so  skillfully  drawn  together 
his  forces  as  to  render  their  escape  impossible. 

Early  in  the  morning  of  the  14th  the  battle  of  Friedland  commenced. 
The  division  of  Lannes  was  in  the  advance.  The  Russian  army  fell  upon 
it  with  the  utmost  energy,  hoping  to  secure  its  destruction  before  the  other 
divisions  of  the  French  army  could  come  to  its  relief.  Napoleon  was  ten 
miles  distant  when  he  heard  the  first  deep  booming  of  the  cannon.  He  sent 
in  every  direction  for  his  battalions  to  hasten  to  the  scene  of  conflict.  At 
noon  Napoleon  galloped  upon  the  heights  which  overlooked  the  field.  As 
he  saw  the  position  of  the  enemy,  hemmed  in  by  the  bend  of  the  river,  and 
his  own  troops  marching  up  on  every  side,  a  gleam  of  joy  lighted  up  his 
features. 

"This,"  he  exclaimed,  "is  the  14th  of  June.  It  is  the  anniversary  of 
Marengo.  It  is  a  lucky  day  for  us." 

The  French,  during  the  morning,  had  been  contending  against  fearful  odds. 
Lannes.  with  26,000  men,  had  withstood  the  assault  of  the  whole  Russian 
army  of  80,000.  As  Napoleon  appeared  upon  the  heights,  General  Oudinot, 
plunging  his  spurs  into  his  horse,  hastened  to  the  Emperor,  exclaiming, 
"  Make  haste,  sire  !  My  grenadiers  are  utterly  exhausted.  But  give  me  a 
re-enforcement,  and  I  w  ill  drive  all  the  Russians  into  the  river."  The  clothes 
of  the  intrepid  soldier  were  perforated  with  balls,  and  his  horse  was  covered 
with  blood.  Napoleon  glanced  proudly  at  him,  and  then,  with  his  glass, 
carefully  and  silently  surveyed  the  field  of  battle.  One  of  his  officers  ven- 
tured to  suggest  that  it  would  be  best  to  defer  the  battle  for  a  few  hours,  un- 
til the  rest  of  the  troops  had  arrived  and  had  obtained  a  little  rest.  "  No, 
no  !"  Napoleon  replied,  energetically  ;  "  one  does  not  catch  an  enemy  twice 
in  such  a  scrape." 

Calling  his  lieutenants  around  him,  he  explained  to  them  his  plan  of  at- 
tack with  that  laconic  force  and  precison  of  language  which  no  man  has  ever 
surpassed.  Grasping  the  arm  of  Marshal  Ney,  and  pointing  to  the  little 


556  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.  [CllAP.  XXXV. 

town  of  Frieclland,  and  the  dense  masses  of  the  Russians  crowded  before  it, 
he  said,  emphatically, 

"  Yonder  is  the  goal.  March  to  it  without  looking  about  you.  Break 
into  that  thick  mass,  whatever  it  costs.  Enter  Friedland;  take  the  bridges, 
and  give  yourself  no  concern  about  what  may  happen  on  your  right,  your 
left,  or  your  rear.  The  army  and  I  shall  be  there  to  attend  to  that." 

Ney,  proud  of  the  desperate  enterprise  assigned  him,  set  out  on  the  gallop 
to  head  his  troops.  Napoleon  followed  with  his  eye  this  "  bravest  of  the 
brave."  Impressed  by  his  martial  attitude,  he  exclaimed,  "  That  man  is  a 
lion."  Ney's  division  of  14,000  men,  with  a  solid  tramp  which  seemed  to 
shake  the  plain,  hurled  itself  upon  the  foe.  At  the  same  signal  the  whole 
French  line  advanced.  It  was  a  spectacle  of  awful  sublimity.  One  inces- 
sant roar  of  battle,  louder  than  the  heaviest  thunders,  shook  the  plain.  Na- 
poleon stood  in  the  centre  of  the  divisions  which  he  held  in  reserve.  A  large 
cannon  ball  came  whistling  over  their  heads,  just  above  the  bayonets  of  the 
troops.  A  young  soldier  instinctively  dodged.  Napoleon  looked  at  him, 
and  smiling,  said,  "  My  friend,  if  that  ball  were  destined  for  you,  though  you 
were  to  burrow  a  hundred  feet  under  ground,  it  would  be  sure  to  find  you 
there." 

Friedland  was  soon  in  flames,  and  Ney  in  possession  of  its  blazing  dwell- 
ings and  its  bloodstained  streets.  As  the  darkness  of  night  came  on,  the 
scene  was  indescribably  awful.  The  Russians,  having  lost  25,000  men  in 
killed  and  wounded,  retreated  toward  the  river,  pursued  by  the  victorious 
French,  who  were  plowing  their  ranks  incessantly  with  grape-shot,  musket- 
ry, and  cannon  balls.  The  bridges  were  all  destroyed.  A  frightful  specta- 
cle of  wreck  and  ruin  was  now  presented.  The  retreating  army  plunged 
into  the  stream.  Some  found  fords,  and,  wading  breast  high,  reached  the 
opposite  bank,  and  planted  anew  their  batteries  ;  thousands  were  swept 
away  by  the  current.  The  shore,  for  miles,  was  lined  with  the  bodies  of 
drowned  men.  A  storm  of  bullets  swept  the  river,  crowded  with  the  fugi- 
tives, and  the  water  ran  red  with  blood. 

The  allied  army  was  now  utterly  destroyed.  It  was  impossible  to  make 
any  further  opposition  to  the  advance  of  Napoleon.  The  broken  bands  of 
the  vanquished  retired  precipitately  across  the  Niemen,  and  took  refuge  in 
the  wrilds  of  Russia.  The  Russian  generals  and  the  Russian  army  now 
clamored  loudly  for  peace.  Alexander  sent  a  messenger  to  Napoleon  im- 
ploring an  armistice.  Napoleon  promptly  replied,  that  after  so  much  fa- 
tigue, toil,  and  suffering,  he  desired  nothing  so  much  as  a  safe  and  honorable 
peace  ;  and  that  most  cordially  he  consented  to  an  armistice,  hoping  that  it 
might  secure  that  desirable  end.  Thus  in  ten  days  the  campaign  was  ter- 
minated. Napoleon  thus  addressed  his  army : 

"  Soldiers  !  On  the  5th  of  June  we  were  attacked  in  our  cantonments  by 
the  Russian  army.  The  enemy  had  mistaken  the  cause  of  our  inactivity. 
He  perceived  too  late  that  our  repose  was  that  of  the  lion.  He  repents  of 
having  disturbed  it.  In  a  campaign  of  ten  days  we  have  taken  120  pieces 
of  cannon,  seven  colors,  and  have  killed,  wounded,  or  taken  prisoners  60,000 
Russians.  We  have  taken  from  the  enemy's  army  all  its  magazines,  its 
hospitals,  its  ambulances,  the  fortress  of  Konigsberg,  the  300  vessels  which 


1807.]  THE  PEACE  OF  TILSIT.  557 

were  in  that  port,  laden  with  all  kinds  of  military  stores,  and  160,000  mus- 
kets, which  England  was  sending  to  arm  our  enemies.  From  the  hanks  of 
the  Vistula  we  have  come,  with  the  speed  of  the  eagle,  to  those  of  the  Nie- 
men.  At  Austerlitz  you  celebrated  the  anniversary  of  the  coronation.  At 
Frieclland  you  have  worthily  celebrated  the  battle  of  Marengo,  where  we  put 
an  end  to  the  war  of  the  second  coalition. 

"  Frenchmen  !  You  have  been  worthy  of  yourselves  and  of  me.  You  will 
return  to  France  covered  with  laurels,  having  obtained  a  glorious  peace, 
which  carries  with  it  the  guarantee  of  its  duration.  It  is  time  for  our  coun- 
try to  live  in  repose,  sheltered  from  the  malignant  influences  of  England. 
My  bounties  shall  prove  to  you  my  gratitude,  and  the  full  extent  of  the  love 
which  I  feel  for  you." 


CHAPTER  XXXVI. 

THE     PEACE     OF     TILSIT. 

Proposals  for  Peace — Raft  at  Tilsit — Intimacy  of  Napoleon  and  Alexander — The  King  of  Prussia — 
Chagrin  of  the  Queen — Treaty  of  Tilsit — Unfair  Representations  of  English  Historians — Return 
to  Paris — General  Rejoicing. 

UPON  the  banks  of  the  Niemen,  which  separates  the  rest  of  Europe  from 
the  boundless  wastes  of  the  Russian  empire,  Napoleon  arrested  the  march 
of  his  triumphant  columns.  But  twenty  months  had  now  elapsed  since  he 
left  the  camp  of  Boulogne.  In  that  time  he  had  traversed  the  Continent  and 
conquered  all  the  armies  of  combined  Europe.  The  storms  of  winter  had 
passed  away.  The  beauty  of  summer  was  blooming  around  him.  His  sol- 
diers, flushed  with  victory,  and  adoring  their  chieftain,  were  ready  to  follow 
wherever  he  should  lead.  But  his  enemies  were  incapable  of  any  further 
resistance.  Alexander  and  Frederick  William,  in  the  extreme  of  dejection, 
were  upon  the  northern  bank  of  the  river,  with  about  70,000  men,  the  broken 
bands  of  their  armies.  These  troops,  having  lost  most  of  their  artillery  and 
munitions  of  war,  were  utterly  dispirited.  On  the  other  bank  the  eagles  of 
Napoleon  fluttered  proudly  over  170,000  victors. 

Upon  the  left  bank  of  the  Niemen  there  is  the  little  town  of  Tilsit.  It 
contains  about  ten  thousand  inhabitants.  Napoleon  had  just  arrived  in  this 
place  when  a  letter  was  placed  in  his  hands  from  Alexander,  proposing  an 
armistice.  Napoleon  had  now  been  absent  from  the  capital  of  his  empire 
nearly  a  year,  enduring  inconceivable  toils  and  hardships.  With  the  utmost 
cordiality  he  accepted  the  proffered  advances.  Marshal  Kalkreuth  appear- 
ed, in  behalf  of  the  Prussians,  to  implore  the  clemency  of  the  conqueror. 
Napoleon  received  him  with  great  courtesy,  and  said,  "  You  alone,  of  the 
Prussian  officers,  have  treated  the  French  prisoners  humanely.  On  this  ac- 
count, and  as  a  mark  of  my  esteem  and  gratitude,  I  consent  to  a  suspension 
of  arms,  without  requiring  the  delivery  of  the  remaining  Prussian  fortresses  " 

The  Niemen  alone  now  separated  the  bellisrerent  armies.     But  Napoleon, 

with  characteristic   caution,  concentrated  his  forces,  reared   an  intrenched 

camp,  collected  immense  stores,  and  posted  the  divisions  of  his  army  just  as 

if  the  war  had  not  been  interrupted.     The  two  vanquished  sovereigns  were 

VOL.  II.— R 


558 


NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE. 


[CHAP.  XXXVI. 


now  in  great  haste  to  open  negotiations.  The  first  interview  was  appointed 
for  the  25th  of  June. 

It  is  not  often  that  the  mathematical  and  the  poetic  elements  combine  in 
the  same  mind.  They  did  so,  in  the  most  extraordinary  degree,  in  the  mind 
of  Napoleon.  No  one  ever  had  a  more  rich  appreciation  than  he  of  beauty 
and  of  sublimity.  He  felt  the  impress  of  moral  grandeur,  and  he  well  knew 
how  to  place  that  impress  upon  other  hearts.  The  two  most  powerful  sov- 
ereigns in  the  world  were  to  meet,  in  friendly  converse,  to  decide  whether 
war  should  still  desolate  Europe.  For  a  year  their  mighty  armies  had  been 
engaged  in  one  of  the  most  sanguinary  conflicts  earth  has  ever  witnessed. 
These  hosts,  consisting  in  the  aggregate  of  more  than  two  hundred  thousand 
men,  were  now  facing  each  other,  separated  but  by  a  narrow  stream.  The 
eyes  of  all  Europe  were  riveted  upon  the  astonishing  scene.  Napoleon  fully 
realized  the  grandeur  of  the  occasion.  With  his  accustomed  tact,  he  seized 
upon  it  to  produce  an  impression  never  to  be  forgotten, 

He  ordered  a  large  and  magnificent  raft  to  be  moored  in  the  middle  of  the 
Niemen,  equidistant  from  both  banks  of  the  river.  The  raft  was  carpeted, 


THE    HAFT    AT    TILSIT. 


and  ornamented  with  the  richest  decorations.  Upon  one  part  a  gorgeous 
pavilion  was  erected.  No  expense  was  spared  to  invest  the  construction 
with  the  most  imposing  magnificence.  The  two  armies  were  drawn  up 
upon  each  shore.  Thousands  of  people  from  the  neighboring  country  had 
thronged  to  the  spot  to  witness  the  extraordinary  spectacle.  God  seemed 


1807.]  THE  PEACE  OF  TILSIT.  559 

to  smile  upon  this  scene  of  reconciliation.  The  sun  rose  brilliantly  into  the 
cloudless  sky,  and  the  balmy  atmosphere  of  one  of  the  most  lovely  of  June 
morning's  invigorated  all  hearts. 

At  one  o'clock  precisely  the  thunders  of  artillery  rose  sublimely  from 
either  shore,  as  each  emperor,  accompanied  by  a  few  of  his  principal  officers, 
stepped  into  a  boat  on  his  own  side  of  the  river.  The  numerous  and  gorge- 
ously appareled  suite  of  the  respective  monarchs  followed  in  a  boat  imme- 
diately after  their  sovereigns.  The  main  raft  was  intended  solely  for  Napo- 
leon and  Alexander.  Two  smaller  rafts,  also  of  beautiful  construction,  were 
anchored  at  a  short  distance  for  the  imperial  retinue.  Napoleon  reached  the 
raft  first,  and  immediately  crossed  it  to  receive  Alexander.  The  two  em- 
perors cordially  embraced  each  other.  Every  man  in  both  armies  was  gaz- 
ing upon  them.  Instantly  a  shout  arose  from  two  hundred  thousand  voices, 
which  filled  the  air  like  a  peal  of  sublimest  thunder.  Even  the  roar \)f  nearly 
a  thousand  pieces  of  artillery  was  drowned  in  that  exultant  acclaim. 

The  two  emperors  entered  the  pavilion  together.  The  first  words  which 
Alexander  uttered  were, 

"  I  hate  the  English  as  much  as  you  do.  I  am  ready  to  second  you  in  all 
your  enterprises  against  them." 

"  In  that  case,"  Napoleon  replied,  "  every  thing  will  be  easily  arranged, 
and  peace  is  already  made." 

The  interview  lasted  two  hours.  Napoleon,  with  his  brilliant  genius,  pos- 
sessed powers  of  fascination  which  few  could  resist.  Alexander  was  per- 
fectly entranced.  "Never,"  said  he  afterward,  "did  I  love  any  man  as  I 
loved  that  man."  "  You  and  I,"  said  Napoleon,  "  shall  understand  each 
other  better  if  we  treat  directly  than  by  employing  our  ministers.  We  shall 
advance  business  more  in  an  hour  than  our  negotiators  in  several  days.  Be- 
tween you  and  me  there  must  be  no  third  person." 

Alexander  was  but  thirty  years  of  age.  He  was  extremely  ambitious.  To 
be  thus  addressed  by  one  whose  renown  filled  the  world  was  in  the  highest 
degree  gratifying  to  the  vanquished  monarch.  Napoleon  proposed  that  they 
should  both  establish  themselves  in  the  little  town  of  Tilsit,  which  should  be 
neutralized  to  receive  Alexander.  There  they  could  at  any  hour,  in  person, 
engage  in  business.  The  proposal  was  eagerly  accepted.  It  was  agreed 
that  the  very  next  day,  Alexander,  with  his  guard,  should  occupy  one  half  of 
Tilsit,  and  Napoleon  the  other.  Napoleon  immediately  ordered  the  most 
sumptuous  arrangements  to  be  made  for  the  accommodation  of  the  Russian 
emperor.  Furniture  of  the  richest  construction  was  sent  to  his  apartments, 
and  he  was  provided  with  every  luxury. 

On  the  morning  of  the  next  day  the  emperors  met  again  upon  the  raft. 
The  unfortunate  King  of  Prussia  accompanied  Alexander.  Frederick  Wil- 
liam was  a  dull,  uninteresting,  awkward  man,  with  no  graces  of  person  or  of 
mind.  He  had  unjustly  provoked  the  war.  His  kingdom  was  in  the  hands 
of  the  conqueror.  He  could  receive  nothing  but  what  Napoleon,  in  compas- 
sion, might  condescend  to  restore.  Alexander  could  treat  on  terms  of  equal- 
ity. His  kingdom  was  not  yet  invaded.  All  its  resources  were  still  under 
his  control.  The  interview  was  short,  lasting  but  half  an  hour.  It  was  ex- 
tremely embarrassing  upon  the  part  of  the  King  of  Prussia.  He  tried  to 


560  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.  [CHAP.  XXXVI. 

frame  some  apologies  for  drawing  the  sword  against  France.  Napoleon  was 
too  generous  to  wound  his  humbled  foe  by  reproaches.  He  merely  said  that 
it  was  a  great  calamity  that  the  court  of  Berlin  should  have  allowed  itself, 
by  the  intrigues  of  England,  to  embroil  the  Continent  in  war.  It  was  de- 
cided that  the  King  of  Prussia  should  also  come  to  Tilsit,  to  reside  with  his 
ally  Alexander.  Both  parties  then  returned  to  their  respective  sides  of  the 
river. 

At  five  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  of  the  same  day,  Alexander  again  crossed 
the  Niemen  to  take  up  his  residence  in  Tilsit.  Napoleon  went  to  the  water's 
edge  to  receive  him.  They  met  like  friends  of  long  standing.  Napoleon 
was  especially  courteous  and  cordial.  Alexander  was  greeted  with  all  the 
honor  which  the  French  army  could  confer.  He  was  conducted  to  his  quar- 
ters amid  the  discharges  of  artillery  and  the  acclamations  of  a  countless  host. 
Alexander  dined  with  Napoleon.  The  highest  honors  and  the  most  delicate 
attentions  were  lavished  upon  him.  It  was  immediately  settled  that  the  Rus- 
sian emperor  should  take  all  his  meals  with  Napoleon.  Alexander  was  a 
gentleman  of  highly  polished  address,  exhibiting  all  that  grace  and  elegance 
which  give  such  a  peculiar  charm  to  the  salons  of  Paris.  He  was  entirely 
dazzled  by  the  grandeur  and  the  fascinations  of  Napoleon,  and  was  willingly 
led  captive  by  one  who  could  conquer  hearts  even  more  easily  than  he  could 
vanquish  armies. 

The  two  emperors  took  long  rides  every  day,  side  by  side,  upon  the  banks 
of  the  Niemen,  conversing  with  the  utmost  frankness.  Their  intimacy  became 
so  extraordinary,  that  not  only  did  they  dine  daily  together,  but  nearly  every 
hour  they  were  with  each  other,  arranging  the  complicated  conditions  of  the 
treaty  into  which  they  were  about  to  enter.  The  officers  and  soldiers  of  the 
two  armies,  witnessing  the  perfect  cordiality  between  the  two  emperors,  vied 
also  with  each  other  in  testimonials  of  esteem  and  friendship.  Fetes  and  en- 
tertainments succeeded  in  rapid  order,  and  the  twc  encampments  were  united 
in  the  kindliest  ties  of  brotherhood.  The  emperors,  as  they  rode  in  company 
along  the  ranks  of  both  armies,  were  received  with  the  liveliest  acclamations. 
Shouts  of  "  Vive  Alexander!"  "Vive  Napoleon !"  were  harmoniously  blended. 
"  My  soldiers,"  said  Napoleon  to  the  Czar,  "  are  as  brave  as  it  is  possible  to 
be,  but  they  are  too  much  addicted  to  reasoning  on  their  position.  If  they 
had  the  impassible  firmness  and  docility  of  the  Russians,  the  world  would 
be  too  small  for  their  exploits." 

One  morning  Napoleon  arid  Alexander  wrere  .walking  out  together,  when 
they  passed  a  French  sentinel,  who  respectfully  presented  arms.  The  gren- 
adier had  a  hideous  scar  upon  his  face,  caused  by  a  long  and  deep  sabre 
gash,  extending  from  his  forehead  to  his  chin.  Napoleon  looked  at  the  man 
kindly  for  a  moment,  and  then  said  to  Alexander, 

"  Sire,  my  brother,  what  think  you  of  soldiers  who  can  survive  such 
wounds  as  that  ?" 

Alexander  fixed  his  eyes  upon  the  wound,  and  replied,  "And  you,  sire, 
my  brother,  what  think  you  of  soldiers  who  can  give  such  wounds  ?" 

The  grenadier  murmured,  in  a  grave  voice,  without  changing  a  feature  of 
his  cast-iron  face,  "  They  are  all  dead — they  are." 

For  a  moment  Alexander  was 'embarrassed,  and  then  turning  to  Napoleon, 


1807.]  THE  PEACE  OF  TILSIT.  56\ 

very  courteously  replied,  "  Here,  my  brother,  as  elsewhere,  the  victory  re- 
mains with  you." 

"  Here,  as  elsewhere,"  Napoleon  most  aptly  rejoined,  "  it  is  to  my  soldiers 
that  I  am  indebted  for  victory." 

The  emperors  often  spent  hours  together  with  the  map  of  the  world  spread 
out  before  them.  Alexander  became  quite  entranced  with  the  new  and  brill- 
iant thoughts  which  Napoleon  suggested  to  his  mind.  It  was  Napoleon's 
great  object  to  withdraw  Alexander  from  the  alliance  with  England,  and  to 
secure  his  cordial  co-operation  with  France. 

"  What,"  said  he,  one  day,  "  are  the  objects  at  which  England  aims  ?  She 
wishes  to  rule  the  seas,  which  are  the  property  of  all  nations,  to  oppress 
neutral  flags,  to  monopolize  commerce,  to  compel  other  nations  to  pay  for 
colonial  produce  whatever  price  she  demands,  to  plant  her  foot  upon  the 
Continent  wherever  she  can — in  Portugal,  in  Denmark,  in  Sweden  ;  to  take 
possession  of  the  dominant  points  of  the  globe,  the  Cape  of  Good  Hope,  Gib- 
raltar, Malta,  and  the  entrance  to  the  Baltic,  that  she  may  impose  her  laws 
upon  the  whole  trading  world.  She  is  now  endeavoring  to  conquer  Egypt. 
And  recently,  if  she  had  obtained  possession  of  the  Dardanelles,  what  would 
she  have  done  with  them  ? 

"  I  am  accused  of  being  fond  of  war.  It  is  not  so.  I  am  ready  instantly 
to  prove  it.  Be  you  my  mediator  with  the  cabinet  of  London.  That  char- 
acter befits  your  position  as  the  former  ally  of  England  and  the  future  ally 
of  France.  I  am  willing  to  give  up  Malta.  Great  Britain  may  keep  that 
island  in  compensation  for  what  I  have  acquired  since  the  rupture  of  the 
peace  of  Amiens.  But  let  her,  in  her  turn,  give  up  the  colonies  which  she 
has  wrested  from  my  allies,  Spain  and  Holland.  I  will  then  restore  Han- 
over to  her.  Are  not  these  conditions  just — perfectly  equitable  ?  Can  I  ac- 
cept others  ?  Can  I  desert  my  allies  ?  And  when  I  am  willing  to  sacrifice 
my  conquests  on  the  Continent  to  recover  for  my  allies  their  lost  posses- 
sions, is  it  possible  to  dispute  my  probity  and  my  moderation  ? 

"  If  England  refuse  these  terms,  she  ought  to  be  forced  to  submit.  It  is 
not  right  that  she  should  keep  the  world  continually  harassed  by  war.  We 
have  the  means  of  compelling  her  to  peace.  If  England  refuses  these  just 
terms,  proclaim  yourself  the  ally  of  France.  Declare  that  you  will  join  your 
forces  with  hers  to  secure  a  maritime  peace.  Let  England  know  that  be- 
sides war  with  France  she  will  have  a  war  with  the  whole  Continent,  with 
Russia,  with  Prussia,  with  Denmark,  with  Sweden,  and  with  Portugal,  all 
which  powers  must  obey  when  we  signify  our  will  to  them.  Austria  must 
speak  out  in  the  same  spirit  when  she  finds  that  she  must  have  war  with 
England  or  with  us.  England,  then  exposed  to  a  universal  war — if  she  will 
not  conclude  an  equitable  peace — England  will  lay  down  her  arms. 

"  You  are  to  act  as  a  mediator  with  England  for  me.  I  will  act  the  same 
part  with  the  Porte  for  you.  If  the  Porte  refuses  to  treat  on  equitable  terms, 
I  will  unite  with  you  against  the  Turks.  Then  we  will  make  a  suitable  par- 
tition of  the  Ottoman  empire." 

Alexander  was  thrown  by  these  magnificent  conceptions  into  almost  a  de- 
lirium of  enthusiasm.  He  yielded  himself,  without  resistance,  to  the  fasci- 
pations  of  the  master-mind  which  had  now  obtained  an  entire  ascendency 


562 


NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE. 


[CHAP.  XXXVI. 


over  him.  He  was  never  weary  of  expressing  his  unbounded  admiration  of 
Napoleon.  To  those  who  approached  him  he  incessantly  exclaimed,  "What 
a  great  man  !  what  a  genius  !  What  extensive  views  !  What  a  captain ! 
what  a  statesman !  Had  I  known  him  sooner,  from  how  many  errors  he 
might  have  saved  me  !  What  great  things  we  might  have  accomplished  to- 
gether !" 

The  unfortunate  King  of  Prussia  was  truly  an  object  of  commiseration. 
With  neither  an  empire  nor  an  army,  he  was  but  a  suppliant  for  such  alms 
as  the  generosity  of  Napoleon  might  confer  upon  him.  He  was  lonely  and 
dejected,  and  was  quite  an  incumbrance  in  the  way  of  his  crowned  compan- 
ions. Napoleon  treated  him  with  great  delicacy  and  respect.  Said  Napo- 
leon at  St.  Helena, 

"Almost  every  day  at  Tilsit  the  two  emperors  and  the  King  of  Prussia 
rode  out  together  on  horseback.  Napoleon  rode  in  the  middle  between  the 


THE    THREE    SOVEREIGNS. 


two  sovereigns.  Frederick  William  could  hardly  keep  pace  with  the  two 
emperors,  or,  deeming -himself  an  intruder  on  their  tete-a-tete,  generally  fell 
behind.  Alexander  was  sometimes  fatigued  with  his  companion,  whose  cha- 
grin was  so  evident  that  it  damped  our  satisfaction.  We  broke  up,  in  con- 
sequence, our  dinner  parties  at  an  early  hour,  under  pretense  of  business  at 
home.  Alexander  and  I  remained  behind  to  take  tea  together,  and  gener- 
ally prolonged  the  conversation  till  past  midnight."  Tv-~. 

In  these  long  interviews  the  fate  of  Turkey  was  a  continual  topic  of  con- 


|807.]  THE  PEACE  OF  TILSIT.  563 

versation.  The  Moslem  empire  was  rapidly  crumbling  to  decay.  Alexander 
was  exceedingly  desirous  to  drive  the  Turks  out  of  Europe,  and  take  pos- 
session of  Constantinople.  Napoleon  was  irreconcilably  opposed  to  this 
plan.  He  felt  that  it  was  giving  the  dreaded  Colossus  of  the  North  alto- 
gether too  much  power.  He  was  willing  that  Russia  should  take  the  prov- 
inces on  the  Danube,  but  could  not  be  persuaded  to  allow  Alexander  to  pass 
the  range  of  the  Balkan  Mountains,  and  annex  to  his  realms  the  proud  city 
of  Constant'ne 

One  day,  having  returned  from  a  ride,  the  two  emperors  shut  themselves 
up  in  the  writing  cabinet,  where  numerous  maps  were  spread  out.  Napoleon 
requested  his  secretary,  M.  Meneval,  to  bring  him  a  map  of  Turkey.  Clap- 
ping his  finger  upon  Constantinople,  he  exclaimed  with  great  earnestness,  as 
if  repeating  a  conversation,  "  Constantinople  !  Constantinople  !  never !  'tis 
the  empire  of  the  world !" 

"All  the  Emperor  Alexander's  thoughts,"  said  Napoleon  at  St. Helena, 
"  are  directed  to  the  conquest  of  Turkey.  We  have  had  many  discussions 
about  it.  At  first  I  was  pleased  with  his  proposals,  because  I  thought  it 
would  enlighten  the  world  to  drive  these  brutes,  the  Turks,  out  of  Europe. 
But  when  I  reflected  upon  its  consequences,  and  saw  what  a  tremendous 
weight  of  power  it  would  give  to  Russia,  on  account  of  the  number  of 
Greeks  in  the  Turkish  dominions,  who  would  naturally  join  the  Russians,  I 
refused  to  consent  to  it,  especially  as  Alexander  wanted  to  get  Constantino- 
ple, which  I  would  not  allow,  as  it  would  destroy  the  equilibrium  of  power 
in  Europe." 

"  A  dispensation  of  Providence,"  said  Napoleon  to  Alexander  at  Tilsil^ 
"  has  set  me  at  liberty  in  regard  to  the  Porte.  My  ally  and  friend,  Sultan 
Selim,  has  been  hurled  from  the  throne  into  confinement.  I  did  think  that 
one  might  make  something  of  these  Turks ;  restore  to  them  some  energy  ,* 
teach  them  to  make  use  of  their  natural  courage.  'Tis  an  illusion.  It  is 
time  to  put  an  end  to  an  empire  which  can  no  longer  hold  together,  and  to 
prevent  its  spoils  from  contributing  to  increase  the  power  of  England." 

The  Queen  of  Prussia  came  to  Tilsit  with  her  husband,  hoping  by  her  ex- 
traordinary charms  of  person  and  of  manner  to  secure  more  favorable  terms 
from  the  conqueror.  She  was  one  of  the  most  brilliant  of  women,  retaining, 
at  the  age  of  thirty-two,  that  surpassing  loveliness  which  had  made  her  the 
admiration  of  Europe. 

"The  Queen  of  Prussia,*'  said  Napoleon,  "unquestionably  possessed  tal- 
ents, great  information,  and  singular  acquaintance  with  affairs.  She  was 
the  real  sovereign  for  fifteen  years.  In  truth,  in  spite  of  my  address  and  ut- 
most efforts,  she  constantly  led  the  conversation,  returned  at  pleasure  to  her 
subject,  and  directed  it  as  she  chose,  but  still  with  so  much  tact  and  delicacy 
that  it  was  impossible  to  take  offense. 

"  Had  the  Queen  of  Prussia  arrived  earlier  at  our  conferences,  it  might 
have  had  much  influence  upon  the  result  of  our  negotiations.  But,  happily 
she  did  not  make  her  appearance  till  all  was  settled.  As  soon  as  she  aW 
rived  I  went  to  pay  her  a  visit.  She  was  very  beautiful,  but  somewhat  past 
the  first  flower  of  youth.  After  all,  a  fine  woman  and  gallantry  are  not  to 
be  weighed  against  affairs  of  state." 


564  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.  [CHAP.  XXXVI. 

He  wrote  to  Josephine:  "The  Queen  of  Prussia  is  really  a  charming 
woman.  She  is  fond  of  coqueting  with  me.  But  do  not  be  jealous.  I  am 
like  a  cere-cloth,  along  which  every  thing  of  this  sort  slides  without  pene- 
trating. It  would  cost  me  too  dear  to  play  the  gallant." 

The  unhappy  queen  was  violently  agitated  when  she  found  that  her  ef- 
forts had  been  of  no  avail,  and  that  all  was  concluded.  As  Napoleon  con- 
ducted her  down  stairs  at  the  close  of  their  final  dinner,  she  stopped,  gazed 
earnestly  into  his  eyes,  pressed  his  hand,  and  said, 

"  Is  it  possible  that,  after  having  had  the  good  fortune  to  be  so  near  the 
hero  of  the  age,  he  has  not  left  me  the  satisfaction  of  being  able  to  assure 
him  that  he  has  attached  me  to  him  forever !" 

"Madame,"  Napoleon  replied,  "  I  lament  that  it  is  so.  It  is  my  evil  des- 
tiny." 

When  she  reached  her  carriage,  she  threw  herself  into  it,  buried  her  face 
in  her  hands,  and  departed  sobbing  most  bitterly.  The  grief  of  the  unhappy 
queen  wore  so  heavily  upon  her  spirits  that  she  soon  sank  into  the  grave. 
Her  persuasions  had  roused  Prussia  to  the  war,  and  her  lofty  spirit  could 
not  brook  the  ruin  she  had  thus  drawn  upon  her  country  and  her  house. 

The  treaty  concluded  upon  this  occasion  has  become  famous  in  history 
as  the  "  Treaty  of  Tilsit."  The  King  of  Prussia  had  about  one  half  of  his 
empire  restored  to  him.  The  portion  wrested  from  Poland,  in  the  infamous 
partition  of  that  empire,  was  organized  into  a  Polish  state,  called  the  Duchy 
of  Warsaw,  and  was  placed  under  the  protection  of  the  King  of  Saxony. 
Napoleon  liberated  all  the  serfs,  entirely  abolished  slavery,  established  per- 
fect liberty  of  conscience  in  matters  of  religion,  and  rescued  the  Jews  from 
all  oppression.  The  inhabitants  of  the  duchy  were  overjoyed  in  being  thus 
emancipated  from  Prussian  rule,  and  restored  to  comparative  independence. 

Napoleon  earnestly  desired  the  complete  re-establishment  of  Poland.  But 
he  could  not  induce  Alexander  to  consent  to  the  plan.  The  provinces  of 
Prussia,  upon  the  left  banks  of  the  Elbe,  were  formed  into  the  kingdom  of 
Westphalia,  and  assigned  to  Jerome  Bonaparte.  The  kingdom  of  Prussia 
was  reduced  from  nine  millions  of  inhabitants  to  five  millions ;  her  revenue 
of  twenty-four  millions  of  dollars  was  diminished  to  fourteen  millions.  Al- 
exander recognized  the  Confederation  of  the  Rhine,  and  also  acknowledged 
the  Kings  of  Naples,  Holland,  and  Westphalia.  Russia  agreed  to  mediate 
with  England,  and  France  engaged  to  mediate  with  the  Porte,  for  the  restora- 
tion -tff  peace  throughout  the  world.  Alexander  and  Napoleon  also  entered 
into  a  mutual  alliance,  offensive  and  defensive.  Such  were  the  essential  arti- 
cles of  this  celebrated  treaty.  Thus  Napoleon  endeavored  to  strengthen  his 
own  position,  and  to  protect  himself  from  any  further  attacks  from  the  north. 

Some  accused  Napoleon  of  weakness  and  folly  in  leaving  Prussia  so  pow- 
erful when  she  was  entirely  at  his  mercy.  Others  accused  him  of  ambition 
and  arrogance  in  despoiling  her  of  so  large  a  portion  of  her  resources.  Im- 
partial history  will  decide  that,  considering  the  circumstances  in  which  he 
was  placed,  he  acted  not  only  with  much  wisdom  and  moderation,  but  also 
with  great  magnanimity.  He  manifested  no  spirit  of  revenge  for  the  wrongs 
which  he  had  received,  He  endeavored  only  to  shield  himself  from  future 
attacks. 


1807.]  THE  PEACE  OF  TILSIT.  555 

Immediately  after  the  conclusion  of  this  treaty,  in  which  Napoleon  mani- 
fested so  little  disposition  to  aggrandize  France  as  to  excite  the  wonder  even 
of  his  most  hostile  historians,  he  sent  for  Savary,  and  said  to  him,  "  I  have 
concluded  peace.  I  am  told  that  I  have  done  wrong,  and  that  I  shall  find 
myself  deceived.  But  truly  we  have  had  war  enough.  It  is  time  that  the 
world  should  enjoy  repose.  I  wish  to  send  you  to  St.  Petersburg  until  I 
make  choice  of  an  embassador.  I  will  give  you  a  letter  to  Alexander  which 
will  serve  as  your  credentials.  You  will  manage  the  business  for  me.  Rec- 
ollect that  I  do  not  wish  to  go  to  war  with  any  power  whatever.  Let  this 
principle  be  the  guide  of  your  conduct.  I  shall  be  much  displeased  if  you 
do  not  avoid  drawing  me  into  fresh  difficulties.  In  your  conversation,  care- 
fully avoid  any  thing  that  may  be  offensive.  For  instance,  never  speak  of 
war.  Do  not  condemn  any  custom  or  comment  upon  any  absurdity.  Every 
nation  has  its  peculiarities.  It  is  too  much  the  habit  of  the  French  to  com- 
pare all  customs  with  their  own,  and  to  set  themselves  up  as  models.  You 
know  how  I  have  been  deceived  by  the  Austrians  and  Prussians.  I  place 
confidence  in  the  Emperor  of  Russia."* 

Napoleon  had  now  been  absent  from  France  nearly  a  year.  Upon  the 
banks  of  the  Niemen  he  was  fifteen  hundred  miles  from  his  capital.  The 
Continent  was  now  at  peace.  At  this  moment  Napoleon  was  in  the  zenith 
of  his  power.  Europe,  dazzled  by  his  genius,  and  vanquished  by  his  armies, 
was  compelled  to  recognize  his  crown.  England  alone,  protected  by  her  in- 
vincible fleet,  and  triumphantly  sweeping  all  seas,  refused  to  sheathe  the 
sword.  She  still  exerted  all  her  powers  of  diplomacy  and  of  gold  to  com- 
bine new  coalitions  against  the  foe  she  so  relentlessly  pursued.  Notwith 

*  In  reference  to  this  treaty,  Sir  Walter  Scott  remarks,  with  a  disingenuousness  deeply  to  be 
regretted  in  one  whom  we  love  to  honor,  "  It  may  seem  strange  that  the  shrewd  and  jealous  Na- 
poleon should  have  suffered  himself  to  be  so  much  overreached  in  his  treaty  with  Alexander,  since 
the  benefits  stipulated  for  France 'were  in  a  great  measure  vague,  and  subjects  of  hope  rather  than 
certainty."  Sir  Walter,  with  his  inveterate  Tory  prejudices,  could  not  deem  it  possible  that  Napo- 
leon could  be  influenced  by  a  generous  impulse.  "  If  the  reader,"  he  says,  "should  wonder  how 
Bonaparte,  able  and  astutious  as  he  was,  came  to  be  overreached  in  the  treaty  of  Tilsit,  we  belies 
the  secret  may  be  found  in  a  piece  of  private  history.  He  had  hopes  that  he  might  obtain  the  hand 
of  one  of  the  Archduchesses  of  Russia  /" 

History  may  be  searched  in  vain  for  a  parallel  to  the  unjust  treatment  of  Napoleon.  The  great 
facts  in  his  career  are  admitted  by  all.  The  false  coloring  put  upon  these  facts  is  perfectly  astound- 
ing. It  is  one  of  the  most  extraordinary  of  the  curiosities  of  literature.  Take  one  example  out 
of  hundreds,  from  Alison,  who,  better  than  any  other  English  historian,  with  the  exception  of  Haz- 
litt,  appreciates  the  character  of  Napoleon.  All  admit  that  after  every  victory  Napoleon  pleaded 
for  peace.  How  can  this  be  reconciled  with  his  alleged  passion  for  war  1  "  It  had  ever  been,"  says 
Alison,  "  his  policy  to  offer  peace  to  his  enemies  during  the  first  tumult  and  consternation  of  defeat ; 
and  more  than  once,  by  such  well-timed  advances,  he  had  extricated  himself  from  a  position  of  the  ut- 
most peril."  After  the  battle  of  Eylau,  Napoleon  wrote  a  generous  and  noble  letter  to  Frederick 
William,  offering,  on  terms  most  equitable  and  moderate,  to  make  peace  with  Prussia,  either  singly 
or  united  with  her  allies.  The  fact  no  one  can  deny.  And  yet  Alison  allows  himself  to  say, 
"  Amid  these  tardy  and  extorted  expressions  of  moderation,  the  Emperor  had  nothing  less  at  heart 
than  to  come  to  an  accommodation."  Still  Alison  is  compelled  to  admit  that  Napoleon  did  make 
peace  the  very  moment  his  enemies  were  willing  to  sheathe  the  sword,  and  that  he  did  this  on 
terms  so  favorable  to  his  enemies  as  to  excite  the  astonishment  of  the  world.  History  is  indeed 
recreant  to  her  trust  when,  abandoning  the  broad  highway  of  facts,  she  wanders  in  the  crooked  by- 
paths of  hostile  and  ungenerous  insinuations.  Napoleon  conducted  nobly,  magnanimously  at  TuV 
•it.  Friend  and  foe  should  acknowledge  it.  The  surmise  that  Napoleon  hoped  that  Alexander 
would  toss  in  a  sister  to  help  balance  (he  bargain,  can.  pot  command  respect. 


566  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.  [CHAP.  XXXVI. 

standing  England's  sovereignty  of  the  seas,  the  genius  of  Napoleon  had  placed 
her  in  an  unenviable  position.  The  haughty  bearing  of  that  government  had 
rendered  England  universally  unpopular.  Says  Hazlitt,  "As  to  the  com- 
plaints urged  by  the  French  ruler  against  the  encroachments,  the  insolence, 
and  the  rapacity  of  England,  as  a  maritime  power,  nothing  could  be  more 
just."  Europe  was  now  ready  to  combine  to  compel  England  to  recognize 
1he  rights  of  other  nations,  and  to  sheathe  her  dripping  sword.  But  proudly 
this  majestic  power,  in  her  inaccessible  domain,  gathered  her  fleets  around 
her,  and  bid  defiance  to  the  combined  world. 

On  Napoleon's  return  journey,  when  he  had  arrived  at  Dresden,  the  cap- 
ital of.  the  kingdom  of  Saxony,  he  wrote  to  Josephine  : 

"  I  reached  this  city  last  evening,  at  five  o'clock,  very  well,  though  I  had 
been  in  my  carriage,  without  leaving  it,  one  hundred  hours.  I  am  with  the 
King  of  Saxony.  I  like  him  much.  I  have  now  traversed  one  half  the  dis- 
tance which  has  separated  us.  It  will  happen  that,  one  of  these  beautiful 
nights,  I  shall  burst  into  St.  Cloud  like  a  jealous  husband.  I  forewarn  you 
of  it.  It  will  give  me  the  most  intense  pleasure  again  to  see  you.  Entirely 
thine,  NAPOLEON." 

At  six  o'clock  in  the  morning  of  the  27th  of  July,  the  cannon  of  the  In- 
valides,  reverberating  through  the  metropolis,  announced  to  the  overjoyed 
Parisians  the  return  of  their  emperor.  With  his  accustomed  disregard  of 
all  personal  comfort,  and  his  characteristic  avoidance  of  all  empty  pomp,  he 
had  traveled  through  the  night,  and  entered  his  capital,  unannounced,  at  that 
early  hour  of  the  morning.  The  tidings  of  his  arrival  passed  through  the 
city  like  an  electric  flash.  Spontaneous  rejoicings  filled  all  the  streets. 
Napoleon  had  rescued  France  from  the  abyss  of  anarchy  and  want,  and 
placed  her  upon  the  very  pinnacle  of  prosperity  and  glory.  Bourbonist  and 
Democrat,  friend  and  enemy,  alike  admitted  this.  As  the  day  passed  away, 
and  the  evening  twilight  faded,  every  window,  by  popular  concert,  blazed 
with  illuminations.  But  Napoleon  tarried  not  in  the  city  to  receive  these  con- 
gratulations. Without  the  delay  of  an  hour  he  repaired  to  St.  Cloud,  where 
he  assembled  the  ministers  before  him,  and  immediately  entered  upon  busi- 
ness, as  if  he  had  just  returned  from  a  short  tour  for  recreation. 

The  confidence  of  the  public  in  the  stability  of  Napoleon's  power  may  be 
inferred  from  the  rate  of  the  public  funds.  The  government  five  per  cent, 
stock  Napoleon  found,  when  he  ascended  the  consulship,  worth  but  twelve 
dollars  on  the  hundred.  At  his  return  from  Friedland  the  same  stocks  were 
selling  at  ninety-three  dollars  on  the  hundred.  As  it  was  easy  then  to  ob- 
tain, with  good  security,  an  interest  of  six  or  seven  per  cent.,  this  high  ap- 
preciation of  the  public  funds  proves  the  firmest  confidence  in  the  estab- 
lished government. 

Before  Napoleon  left  Paris  to  enter  upon  these  campaigns,  into  which  he 
was  so  reluctantly  dragged,  he  addressed  his  ministers  in  the  following  sol' 
emn  and  emphatic  appeal : 

"  I  am  innocent  of  this  war.  I  have  done  nothing  to  provoke  it.  It  did 
not  enter  into  my  calculations.  Let  me  be  defeated  if  it  be  of  my  own  seek- 


1807.]  POLITICAL  VIEWS.  507 

ing.  One  of  the  principal  reasons  of  the  assurance  I  feel  that  my  enemies 
will  be  destroyed  is,  that  I  view  in  their  conduct  the  finger  of  Providence, 
who,  willing  that  the  guilty  should  be  punished,  has  set  wisdom  so  far  aside 
in  their  councils,  that  when  they  intended  to  attack  me  in  the  moment  of 
weakness,  they  selected  the  very  instant  when  I  was  stronger  than  ever." 

Before  the  battle  of  Jena,  when  Napoleon  had  so  effectually  outmaneu- 
vered  his  enemies  as  to  feel  sure  of  victory,  wishing  to  save  the  effusion  of 
blood,  he  wrote  to  the  King  of  Prussia  : 

"  The  success  of  my  arms  is  not  doutbtful.  Your  troops  will  be  beaten. 
But  it  will  cost  me  the  blood  of  my  children.  .If  that  can  be  spared  by  any 
arrangement  consistent  with  the  dignity  of  my  crown,  I  will  do  all  that  may 
depend  upon  myself.  Excepting  honor,  nothing  is  so  precious  in  my  eyes  as 
the  blood  of  my  soldiers." 

After  the  utter  and  unparalleled  overthrow  of  the  Prussians  upon  the  fields 
of  Jena  and  Auerstadt,  he  concluded  a  bulletin  with  the  following  words : 
"  It  appears  as  if  it  were  a  decree  of  Providence  that  all  those  who  have  fo- 
mented this  war  should  be  cut  off  by  the  first  blows  which  were  struck." 

Napoleon  had  now  returned  to  Paris  after  a  series  of  victories  unparalleled 
in  history.  As  has  been  stated,  he  immediately  repaired  to  St.  Cloud,  and 
convened  a  council  of  his  ministers.  He  had  never  before  seemed  so  happy. 
Joy  beamed  from  his  countenance. 

"  We  are  now,"  said  he,  "  sure  of  Continental  peace.  And  as  for  maritime 
peace,  we  shall  soon  obtain  that  by  the  voluntary  or  the  forced  concurrence 
of  all  the  Continental  powers.  Let  us  enjoy  our  greatness,  and  now  turn 
traders  and  manufacturers.  I  have  had  enough  of  the  trade  of  General.  I 
shall  now  resume  with  you  that  of  First  Minister,  and  recommence  my  great 
reviews  of  affairs,  which  it  is  time  to  substitute  for  my  great  reviews  of  ar- 
mies.'1'' The  Emperor,  accompanied  by  the  Empress,  and  by  all  the  high 
dignitaries  of  state,  repaired  to  the  church  of  Notre  Dame,  where  a  Te  Deum 
was  chanted  in  solemn  thanksgiving  to  God  for  the  Peace  of  Tilsit. 


CHAPTER  XXXVII. 

POLITICAL    VIEWS. 

Letter  to  Louis  Bonaparte — Jerome  Bonaparte — Abolition  of  the  Tribunate — Napoleon  in  Council 
— Care  of  the  Children  of  deceased  Officers  and  Soldiers — Far-sighted  Policy — Report  of  the 
Minister  of  the  Interior. 

WITHOUT  devoting  a  day  to  rest  or  to  triumph,  Napoleon  immediately 
plunged,  with  all  the  energy  of  his  ardent  and  incessantly  active  mind,  into 
boundless  plans  for  the  promotion  of  the  great  interests  of  France.  Care- 
fully selected  agents  were  dispatched  to  all  the  cabinets  of  Europe.  Minute 
directions  were  given  to  each  to  secure  the  efficient  co-operation  of  all  those 
powers  in  the  attempt  to  coerce  England  to  peace,  if  she  should  refuse  to 
accept  the  terms  which  Russia  was  commissioned  to  offer  her.  In  this  war- 
fare it  was  not  possible  that  there  should  be  any  neutrality.  Those  Conti- 
nental powers  which  continued  to  open  their  ports  for  the  reception  of  En- 


568  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.  [CHAP.  XXXVII. 

glish  goods,  were  most  efficiently  aiding  the  belligerent  and  indomitable 
islanders.  Those,  on  the  contrary,  who  closed  their  ports  against  the  manu- 
factures of  England,  co-operated  with  the  Allies  in  their  great  measure  to 
disarm  that  hostile  power.  The  Allies  !  But  yesterday,  guided  by  the  ge- 
nius of  English  diplomacy,  they  were  combined  against  Napoleon.  To-day, 
the  genius  of  Napoleon  has  turned  all  their  energies  against  his  formidable 
rival.  The  rights  of  neutrals  were  by  both  parties  entirely  disregarded. 
England  first  assailed  the  rights  of  neutrals  by  prohibiting  all  commerce 
with  France,  or  with  the  allies  of  France.  Napoleon,  immediately  meeting 
wrong  with  wrong,  prohibited  all  neutrals  as  well  as  his  own  subjects  from 
buying  any  goods  of  the  English. 

Holland  was  almost  exclusively  a  commercial  country.  Louis  Bonaparte, 
a  humane,  kind-hearted,  conscientious  man,  was  more  interested  in  the  wel- 
fare of  his  own  subjects  than  in  the  general  welfare  of  Europe,  consequently 
he  was  quite  lax  in  enforcing  the  Continental  system.  Smuggling  was  very 
extensively  practiced  in  his  kingdom.  Napoleon,  in  the  following  able  and 
earnest  terms,  remonstrated  with  his  brother  : 

"  It  is  not  to  the  present  alone  that  sovereigns  must  accommodate  their 
policy.  The  future  must  also  be  the  object  of  their  consideration.  What  is 
at  this  moment  the  situation  of  Europe  ?  On  one  side,  England,  who  pos- 
sesses, by  her  sole  exertions,  a  dominion  to  which  the  whole  world  has  hither- 
to been  compelled  to  submit.  On  the  other  side,  the  French  empire  and  the 
Continental  states,  which,  strengthened  by  the  union  of  their  powers,  can  not 
acquiesce  in  this  supremacy  exercised  by  England.  Those  states  had  also 
their  colonies  and  a  maritime  trade.  They  possess  an  extent  of  coast  much 
greater  than  England  ;  but  they  have  become  disunited,  and  England  has 
attacked  the  naval  power  of  each  separately.  England  has  triumphed  on 
every  sea,  and  all  navies  have  been  destroyed.  Russia,  Sweden,  France,  and 
Spain,  which  possess  such  ample  means  for  having  ships  and  sailors,  dare 
not  venture  to  send  a  squadron  out  of  their  ports 

"  I  wish  for  peace.  I  wish  to  obtain  it  by  every  means  compatible  with 
the  dignity  of  the  power  of  France — at  the  expense  of  every  sacrifice  which 
our  national  honor  can  allow.  Every  day  I  feel  more  and  more  that  peace 
is  necessary.  The  sovereigns  of  the  Continent  are  as  anxious  for  peace  as 
I  am.  I  feel  no  passionate  prejudice  against  England.  I  bear  her  no  insur- 
mountable hatred.  She  has  followed  against  me  a  system  of  repulsion.  1 
have  adopted  against  her  the  Continental  system,  not  so  much  from  a  jeal- 
ousy of  ambition,  as  my  enemies  suppose,  but  in  order  to  reduce  England  to 
the  necessity  of  adjusting  our  differences.  Let  England  be  rich  and  pros- 
perous. It  is  no  concern  of  mine,  provided  France  and  her  allies  enjoy  the 
same  advantages. 

"  The  Continental  system  has,  therefore,  no  other  object  than  to  advance 
the   moment  when  the  public  rights  of  Europe  and  of  the  French  empire 
will  be  definitely  established.     The  sovereigns  of  the  North  observe  and  en 
force  strictly  the  system  of  prohibition,  and  their  trade  has  been  greatly  ben 
efited  by  it.     The  manufactures  of  Prussia  may  now  compete  with  ours. 
You  are  aware  that  France,  and  the  whole  extent  of  coasts  which  now  forms 
part  of  the  empire,  from  the  Gulf  of  Lyons  to  the  extremity  of  the  Adriatic, 


1807.]  POLITICAL  VIEWS.  569 

are  strictly  closed  against  the  produce  of  foreign  industry.  I  am  about  to 
adopt  a  measure  with  respect  to  the  affairs  of  Spain,  the  result  of  which  will 
be  to  wrest  Portugal  from  England,  and  subject  all  the  coasts  of  Spain,  on 
both  seas,  to  the  influence  of  the  policy  of  France.  The  coasts  of  the  whole 
of  Europe  will  then  be  closed  against  England,  with  the  exception  of  those 
of  Turkey,  which  I  do  not  care  about,  as  the  Turks  do  not  trade  with 
Europe. 

"  Do  you  not  perceive,  from  this  statement,  the  fatal  consequences  that 
would  result  from  the  facilities  given  by  Holland  to  the  English  for  the  in- 
troduction of  their  goods  on  the  Continent  ?  They  would  enable  England  to 
levy  upon  us  the  subsidies  which  she  would  afterward  offer  to  other  powers 
to  fight  against  us.  Your  majesty  is  as  much  interested  as  I  am  to  guard 
against  the  crafty  policy  of  the  English  cabinet.  A  few  years  more,  and 
England  will  wish  for  peace  as  much  as  we  do.  Observe  the  situation  of 
your  kingdom,  and  you  will  see  that  the  system  I  allude  to  is  more  useful  to 
yourself  than  it  is  to  me.  Holland  is  a  maritime  and  commercial  power. 
She  possesses  fine  sea-ports,  fleets,  sailors,  skillful  commanders,  and  colonies 
which  do  not  cost  any  thing  to  the  mother  country.  Her  inhabitants  under- 
stand trade  as  well  as  the  English.  Has  not  Holland,  therefore,  an  interest 
in  defending  all  these  advantages  ?  May  not  peace  restore  her  to  the  po- 
sition she  formerly  held  ?  Granted  that  her  situation  may  be  painful  for  a 
few  years  ;  but  is  not  this  preferable  to  making  the  King  of  Holland  a  mere 
governor  for  England,  and  Holland  and  her  colonies  a  vassal  of  Great  Brit- 
ain ?  Yet  the  protection  which  you  would  afford  to  English  commerce  would 
lead  to  that  result.  The  examples  of  Sicily  and  Portugal  are  still  before 
your  eyes. 

"  Await  the  result  of  the  progress  of  time.  You  want  to  sell  your  gins, 
and  England  wants  to  buy  them.  Point  out  the  place  where  the  English 
smugglers  may  come  and  fetch  them ;  but  let  them  pay  for  them  in  money, 
and  never  in  goods — positively  never !  Peace  must  at  last  be  made.  You 
will  then  make  a  treaty  of  commerce  with  England.  I  may,  perhaps,  also 
make  one  with  her,  but  in  which  our  mutual  interests  shall  be  reciprocally 
guaranteed.  If  we  must  allow  England  to  exercise  a  kind  of  supremacy  on 
the  sea — a  supremacy  which  she  wrill  have  purchased  at  the  expense  of  her 
treasures  and  of  her  blood,  and  which  is  the  natural  consequence  of  her 
geographical  position — of  her  possessions  in  the  three  other  quarters  of  the 
globe — at  least  our  flags  will  be  at  liberty  to  appear  on  the  ocean  without 
being  exposed  to  insult,  and  our  maritime  trade  will  cease  to  be  ruinous. 
For  the  present,  we  must  direct  our  efforts  toward  preventing  England  from 
interfering  in  the  affairs  of  the  Continent." 

It  will  be  remembered  that  Napoleon  had  placed  two  Spanish  princes  over 
the  kingdom  of  Etruria.  The  king,  an  idle,  dissolute,  weak-minded  man, 
soon  died.  The  Queen  of  Etruria,  daughter  of  the  King  of  Spain,  now  reigned 
as  regent  for  her  son.  She  was  a  feeble  and  a  careless  woman.  She  could 
neither  appreciate  nor  comprehend  the  Continental  system  which  Napoleon 
was  determined  to  have  enforced.  The  English  traded  as  freely  at  Leghorn 
as  in  the  ports  of  their  own  country.  Their  goods,  thus  entered,  were  scat- 
tered widely  over  the  Continent.  Napoleon  ordered  Eugene  to  draft  an 


570  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.  [CHAP.  XXXVII. 

army  of  4000  men,  and,  rapidly  crossing  the  Apennines,  to  fall  upon  Leg- 
horn and  capture  all  property  belonging  to  the  enemy.  He  was  then  to  for- 
tify Leghorn  against  any  attack  from  the  English,  and  to  enforce  the  Berlin 
decree.  This  was  an  act  of  despotism.  Napoleon  asserted,  in  defense,  that 
the  world  demanded  peace  ;  that  England,  mistress  of  all  seas,  could  not  be 
conquered  by  force  of  arms  ;  that  the  only  influence  which  could  be  brought 
to  bear  upon  England  to  induce  her  to  consent  to  peace,  was  to  strike  at  her 
trade.  To  accomplish  this,  Europe  was  ready  to  combine.  It  seemed  to 
him  preposterous  that  a  frivolous  and  foolish  woman,  nominally  governing 
the  petty  kingdom  of  Etruria,  should  be  a  fatal  obstacle  to  the  success  of  a 
plan  of  such  grandeur. 

Napoleon's  youngest  brother,  Jerome,  was  at  that  time  a  wild,  thought, 
less,  kind-hearted  young  man  about  twenty-one  years  of  age.  His  extrava- 
gance and  his  frivolous  dissipation  greatly  displeased  his  imperial  brother. 
He  had  been  appointed  to  the  command  of  a  small  sloop  of  war.  Napoleon 
was  in  the  habit  of  calling  him  that  little  miscreant.  At  one  time,  when  Je- 
rome wrote  for  more  money,  Napoleon  replied : 

"  I  have  seen  your  letter,  Mr.  Naval  Ensign,  and  am  impatient  to  heat 
that  you  are  on  board  your  frigate,  studying  a  profession  intended  to  be  the 
scene  of  your  glory.  Die  young,  and  I  shall  have  some  consolation  ;  but 
if  you  live  to  sixty  without  having  served  your  country,  and  without  leav- 
ing behind  you  an  honorable  memory,  you  had  better  never  have  been 
born." 

Jerome,  in  one  of  his  cruises,  landed  in  New  York.  He  there  met  and 
married  Miss  Elizabeth  Patterson,  a  very  beautiful  young  lady,  daughter  of 
a  rich  merchant  in  Baltimore.  Napoleon  was  founding  a  new  dynasty.  By 
the  laws  of  France,  this  marriage,  without  the  consent  of  the  government,  of 
a  French  prince,  to  whose  heirs  the  imperial  crown  might  descend,  was  null. 
It  was  deemed  essential  to  the  interests  of  France  that  those  princes  who 
might  inherit  the  imperial  throne  should  form  alliances  which  would  strength- 
en their  power.  Napoleon  consequently  refused  to  recognize  this  marriage, 
or  to  allow  the  youthful  bride  of  his  brother  to  land  in  France.  Madame 
Bonaparte,  in  sorrow,  returned  to  Baltimore  with  her  youthful  son.  Jerome 
accepted  the  hand  of  the  daughter  of  the  King  of  Wiirtemberg,  and  was  ap- 
pointed by  Napoleon  King  of  Westphalia.  His  son  is  now  heir  to  the  em- 
pire of  France,  should  Louis  Napoleon  die  without  issue. 

It  will  be  remembered  that  the  French  government  wras  composed  of  three 
houses,  the  Senate,  the  Tribunate,  and  the  legislative  body.  Napoleon  re- 
solved to  simplify  the  cumbrous  machinery,  by  blending  into  one  body  the 
functions  and  the  persons  of  the  Tribunate  and  the  Legislature.  "  It  is  cer- 
tain," said  Napoleon  at  St.  Helena,  "that  the  Tribunate  was  absolutely  use- 
less, while  it  cost  nearly  half  a  million.  I  therefore  suppressed  it.  I  was 
well  aware  that  an  outcry  would  be  raised  against  the  violation  of  the  law ; 
but  I  was  strong.  I  possessed  the  full  confidence  of  the  people,  and  I  con- 
sidered myself  a  reformer.  This  at  least  is  certain,  that  I  did  all  for  the 
best.  I  should,  on  the  contrary,  have  created  the  Tribunate,  had  I  been 
hypocritical  or  evil-disposed ;  for  who  can  doubt  that  it  would  have  adopted 
and  sanctioned,  when  necessary,  my  views  and  intentions  ?  But  that  is  what 


1807.] 


POLITICAL  VIEWS. 


571 


I  never  sought  after  in  the  whole  course  of  my  administration.     I  never  pur- 
chased any  vote  or  decision  by  promises,  money,  or  places." 

The  Council  of  State,  or  cabinet,  Napoleon  formed  with  the  greatest  care. 
In  this  body  he  collected  for  his  assistance  the  most  able  men  in  every  de^ 
partment  of  government,  wherever  he  could  find  them.  The  council  was 
divided  into  sections  to  report  upon  literature,  science,  legislation,  civil,  mil- 
itary, naval,  and  ecclesiastical  affairs.  The  moment  a  new  province  was 
added  to  the  empire,  Napoleon  sought  from  it  the  most  distinguished  men 
with  whom  to  enrich  his  council.  Genoa,  Florence,  Turin,  Holland,  fur- 
nished men  so  brilliant  for  talents  that  they  survived  the  downfall  of  their 
master,  and,  upon  their  return  to  their  own  countries,  were  appointed  to  high 
stations  by  their  respective  sovereigns. 


NAPOLEON   IN   COUNCIL. 


The  meetings  of  the  council  were  usually  held  in  the  palace  of  the  Tuil- 
eries,  or,  if  Napoleon  happened  to  be  at  St.  Cloud,  the  members  were  sum- 
moned there.  The  Emperor  generally  presided  in  person.  His  seat  was  a 
common  mahogany  chair,  raised  one  foot  above  the  floor,  at  the  head  of 
several  long  tables  where  the  counselors  of  state  were  seated.  At  times 
Napoleon  would  drop  his  head  upon  his  bosom  and  sink  into  a  profound 
reverie,  apparently  unconscious  of  the  languishing  discussion.  At  other 
times  the  whole  body  was  electrified  by  the  brilliancy  and  the  intense  ac- 
tivity of  his  mind.  Sometimes  he  gave  notice  of  his  intention  to  be  present. 
Again  he  appeared  unexpectedly.  The  roll  of  the  drum  on  the  stairs  of  the 
Tuileries  gave  the  first  intimation  of  his  approach.  The  Emperor's  seat  al- 
ways remained  in  its  place.  When  he  was  absent,  the  High  Chancellor  pre- 
sided, occupying  a  chair  by  the  side  of  the  vacant  seat.  The  moment  bus- 
iness commenced  the  key  was  turned,  and  no  loiterer  could  then  obtain  ad- 
mittance. 


572  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.  [CHAP.  XXXVII. 

No  matter  how  long  the  sittings,  the  mind  of  the  Emperor  never  seemed 
fatigued.  He  often  kept  the  council  at  St.  Cloud  in  session  from  nine  o'clock 
in  the  morning  until  five  in  the  evening,  with  an  intermission  of  but  a  quar- 
ter of  an  hour  for  refreshments.  He  sometimes  presided  at  a  meeting  of  the 
sections  in  the  Tuileries  from  ten  o'clock  in  the  evening  till  five  in  the  morn- 
ing. He  then  took  a  bath,  and  was  ready  to  commence  work  as  vigorous 
as  ever.  "  One  hour,"  said  Napoleon,  "  in  the  bath,  is  worth,  to  me,  four 
hours  of  sleep."  He  expected  from  others  mental  activity  in  some  degree 
corresponding  with  his  own.  If  a  report  was  to  be  drawn  up,  it  was  ordered 
for  the  next  morning.  If  one  of  the  council  was  charged  with  proposing  a 
law  to  the  Legislature,  he  often  had  not  two  hours  to  arrange  the  matter  and 
to  prepare  his  speech.  The  Emperor  dictated  with  such  rapidity  that  there 
generally  remained  several  pages  to  be  written  after  he  had  done  speaking. 
And  yet  his  amanuenses  were  so  skillful  that  seldom  any  alteration  was  re- 
quired. 

There  was  no  opportunity  in  the  council  for  the  pomp  of  eloquence.  The 
style  of  speech  was  laconic  and  simple.  A  new  member,  who  had  acquired 
celebrity  as  an  orator,  was  laughed  at  for  his  rhetorical  display.  He  found 
it  necessary  immediately  to  adopt  simply  the  language  of  earnest  conversa- 
tion. Not  only  was  every  description  of  knowledge  represented  in  the  coun- 
cil, but  all  shades  of  political  opinion.  It  was  a  prominent  endeavor  of  Napo- 
leon to  fuse  into  one  mass  of  patriotic  love  all  the  different  parties  of  the  state. 

The  most  perfect  freedom  of  discussion  prevailed  in  the  council.  The 
Emperor  often  urged  those  persons  to  speak  whose  opinions  he  desired  to 
learn.  One  day  the  Emperor  entered  the  council  in  a  state  of  intense  agi- 
tation. News  had  arrived  of  the  surrender  to  the  Spaniards  of  the  French 
army  under  General  Dupont.  It  was  the  first  time  that  the  eagles  of  France 
had  been  humiliated.  Napoleon's  voice  trembled  with  emotion  as  he  re- 
counted the  disaster.  He  was  extremely  displeased  with  General  Dupont. 
As  he  dwelt  upon  the  resources  which  the  general,  even  under  the  most  des- 
perate circumstances,  might  have  called  to  his  aid,  he  exclaimed, 

"  Yes  !  the  elder  Horace,  in  Corneille's  play,  is  right,  when,  being  asked 
what  his  flying  son  could  have  done,  he  says, '  He  might  have  died ;  or  he 
might  have  called  m  a  noble  despair  to  his  rescue?  Little,"  continued  Na- 
poleon, "  do  they  know  of  human  nature  who  find  fault  with  Corneille,  and 
pretend  that  he  has  weakened  the  effect  of  the  first  exclamation  by  that 
which  follows." 

On  one  occasion,  General  Gassendi,  an  old  artillery  comrade  of  the  Em- 
peror, was  advocating  some  rather  visionary  views  of  political  economy. 

"Where,  my  dear  general,"  said  Napoleon,  ironically,  "did  you  gain  all 
this  knowledge?" 

The  blunt  soldier,  a  little  irritated,  exclaimed,  "  From  you,  sire,  I  have 
borrowed  my  principles." 

"  What  do  you  say  ?"  replied  the  Emperor,  with  warmth  ;  "  from  me  !  I 
have  always  thought  that  if  there  existed  a  monarchy  of  granite,  the  chimeras 
of  political  economists  would  grind  it  to  powder.  No,  general !  you  must 
have  fallen  asleep  in  your  office  and  dreamed  all  this." 

"  Fall  asleep  in  our  offices  !"  exclaimed  the  privileged  soldier.     "  No,  sire, 


1807.]  POLITICAL  VIEWS.  573 

I  defy  any  one  to  do  that.  Your  majesty  torments  us  too  much  with  hard 
work  to  allow  of  any  repose." 

A  general  burst  of  laughter  followed  this  retort,  in  which  the  Emperor 
heartily  joined. 

A  woman  had  three  times  been  tried  for  a  capital  offense,  and  each  time 
acquitted.  Through  some  informality  in  the  proceedings,  a  fourth  trial  was 
still  demanded.  Napoleon  claimed  for  the  poor  woman  the  immunity  which 
in  justice  she  ought  to  have  obtained.  Alone  he  contended  against  the  whole 
Council  of  State.  It  was  declared  that  the  Emperor  possessed  the  power  of 
pardon,  but  that  the  law  was  inflexible  and  must  take  its  course.  "  Gentle- 
men," Napoleon  replied,  "  the  decision  here  goes  by  the  majority.  I  remain 
alone,  and  must  yield.  But  I  declare  in  my  conscience  that  I  yield  only  to 
forms.  You  have  reduced  me  to  silence,  but  by  no  means  convinced  me." 

On  another  occasion,  in  the  ardor  of  debate,  the  Emperor  was  three  times 
interrupted  in  giving  his  opinion.  Turning  to  the  individual  who  had  thus 
transgressed,  he  exclaimed,  in  a  severe  tone,  "  I  have  not  yet  done,  sir.  I 
beg  that  you  will  allow  me  to  continue.  I  believe  that  every  one  here  has 
a  right  to  express  his  sentiments."  This  reply  struck  the  whole  body  so 
comically  as  to  produce  a  general  laugh,  in  which  the  Emperor  himself  very 
good-naturedly  joined. 

Napoleon  manifested  the  most  unremitted  attention  to  the  wants  of  his 
wounded  soldiers,  and  provided,  with  truly  paternal  affection,  for  the  chil- 
dren of  those  who  had  fallen  on  the  field  of  battle.  He  was  continually 
revolving  in  his  grateful  mind  what  he  could  do  for  those  who,  through  toils 
and  sufferings  incredible,  had  been  so  true  to  him.  At  one  time  he  proposed 
to  the  Council  of  State  that,  in  future,  all  vacant  situations  in  the  customs, 
and  in  the  collection  of  the  revenue  and  the  excise,  should  be  given  to  wound- 
ed soldiers,  or  to  veterans  capable  of  filling  those  offices,  from  the  private  up 
to  the  highest  rank  in  the  army.  The  plan  was  very  coldly  received.  Na- 
poleon urged  a  free  expression  of  opinion. 

"  Sire,"  answered  M.  Maluet,  "  I  fear  that  the  other  classes  of  the  nation 
will  feel  aggrieved  in  seeing  the  army  preferred." 

"  Sir,"  the  Emperor  replied,  "  you  make  a  distinction  where  none  exists. 
The  army  no  longer  forms  a  separate  class  in  the  nation.  In  the  situation 
in  which  we  are  now  placed,  no  member  of  the  state  is  exempt  from  being  a 
soldier.  To  follow  a  military  career  is  no  longer  a  matter  of  choice.  It  is 
one  of  necessity.  The  greatest  number  of  those  who  are  engaged  in  that 
career  have  been  compelled  to  abandon  their  own  professions.  It  is  there- 
fore just  that  they  should  receive  some  compensation." 

"  But  will  it  not  be  inferred,"  said  M.  Maluet,  "  that  your  majesty  intends 
that,  in  future,  almost  all  vacant  situations  shall  be  given  to  soldiers  ?" 

**  And  such,  indeed,  is  my  intention,"  the  Emperor  replied.  "  The  only 
question  is  whether  I  have  the  right  to  do  so.  The  Constitution  gives  me 
the  nomination  to  all  places.  I  think  it  a  principle  of  strict  equity  that  those 
who  have  suffered  most  have  the  greatest  claims  to  be  indemnified."  Then, 
raising  his  voice,  he  added,  "  Gentlemen,  war  is  not  a  profession  of  ease  and 
comfort.  Quietly  seated  on  your  benches  here,  you  know  it  only  by  read- 
ing our  bulletins,  or  by  hearing  of  our  triumphs.  You  know  nothing  of  our 
VOL.  II.— S 


574  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.  [CHAP.  XXXVII. 

nightly  watches,  our  forced  marches,  the  sufferings  and  privations  of  every 
kind  to  which  we  are  exposed.  But  I  do  know  them,  for  I  witness  them, 
and  sometimes  share  them."  Though  the  Emperor  was  deeply  interested 
in  the  passing  of  this  decree,  and  defended  it  in  its  most  minute  details,  he 
yielded  to  the  opposition  and  abandoned  the  plan. 

Napoleon  had  adopted  all  the  children  of  the  soldiers  and  officers  who  fell 
at  Austerlitz.  In  consequence  of  this  adoption  they  were  all  authorized  to 
add  Napoleon  to  their  names.  One  of  these  young  men  happened,  on  a  cer- 
tain occasion,  to  attract  the  especial  attention  of  the  Emperor.  Napoleon 
asked  him  what  profession  he  would  choose,  and,  without  waiting  for  an  an- 
swer, pointed  out  one  himself.  The  young  man  observed  that  his  father's 
fortune  was  not  sufficient  to  allow  him  to  follow  it.  "  What  has  that  to  do 
with  the  question  ?"  replied  the  Emperor.  "  Am  not  I  also  your  father  ?" 
The  pulsations  of  Napoleon's  generous  heart  were  as  gigantic  as  were  the 
energies  of  his  imperial  mind. 

The  Emperor  wished  to  establish  a  military  classification  of  the  whole 
empire,  as  a  measure  of  national  defense.  The  first  class,  which  was  to 
consist  of  young  men,  was  to  march  as  far  as  the  frontiers.  The  second, 
which  was  to  be  composed  of  middle-aged  and  married  men,  was  not  to  quit 
the  department  to  which  it  belonged.  The  third,  consisting  of  men  advanced 
in  years,  was  to  be  kept  solely  for  the  defense  of  the  town  in  which  it  had 
been  raised.  During  a  discussion  of  the  above  subject,  the  Emperor  spoke 
in  very  emphatic  terms,  urging  the  importance  of  this  measure.  His  pierc- 
ing eye  seemed  to  penetrate  futurity,  and  to  anticipate  the  hour  of  national 
peril  which  soon  arrived.  One  of  the  members  of  the  cabinet,  in  a  very  cir- 
cumlocutory style,  expressed  his  disapproval  of  this  plan  of  organization. 
The  Emperor  immediately  exclaimed,  "  Speak,  boldly,  sir.  Do  not  mutilate 
your  ideas.  Say  what  you  have  to  say  freely.  We  ate  here  by  ourselves." 

The  speaker  then  declared  "that  the  measure  was  calculated  to  inspire 
general  alarm.  That  every  individual  trembled  to  find  himself  classed  in 
the  divisions  of  the  national  guard,  being  persuaded  that  under  the  pretext 
of  internal  defense,  the  object  was  to  remove  the  guards  from  the  country." 

"  Very  good,"  said  the  Emperor  ;  "  I  now  understand  you.  But,  gentle- 
men," continued  he,  addressing  himself  to  the  members  of  the  council,  "  you 
are  all  fathers  of  families,  possessing  ample  fortunes,  and  filling  important 
posts.  You  must  necessarily  have  numerous  dependents ;  and  you  must 
either  be  very  maladroit  or  very  indifferent  if,  with  all  these  advantages, 
you  do  not  exercise  a  great  influence  on  public  opinion.  Now  how  happens 
it  that  you,  who  know  me  so  well,  should  suffer  me  to  be  so  little  known 
by  others  ?  When  did  you  ever  know  me  to  employ  deception  and  fraud  in 
my  system  of  government  ?  I  am  not  timid.  I  therefore  am  not  accustomed 
to  resort  to  indirect  measures.  My  fault  is,  perhaps,  to  express  myself  too 
abruptly,  too  laconically.  I  merely  pronounce  the  word,  I  order ;  and  with 
regard  to  forms  and  details,  I  trust  to  the  intermediate  agents  who  execute 
my  intentions ;  and  heaven  knows  whether  on  this  point  I  have  any  great 
reason  to  congratulate  myself.  If,  therefore,  I  wanted  troops,  I  should  bold- 
ly demand  them  of  the  Senate,  who  would  levy  them  for  me  ;  or,  if  I  could 
not  obtain  them  from  the  Senate,  I  should  address  myself  to  the  people,  and 


POLITICAL  VIEWS. 


575 


1807.] 

you  would  see  them  eagerly  march  to  join  my  ranks.  Whatever  may  be  al- 
leged to  the  contrary,  the  whole  of  the  French  people  love  and  respect  me. 
Their  good  sense  is  superior  to  the  malignant  reports  of  my  enemies.  The 
French  people  know  no  benefactor  but  me.  Through  me  they  fearlessly 
enjoy  all  that  they  have  acquired.  Through  me  they  behold  their  brothers 
and  sons  indiscriminately  promoted,  honored,  and  enriched.  Through  me 
they  find  their  hands  constantly  employed,  and  their  labor  accompanied  by 
its  due  reward.  They  have  never  had  occasion  to  accuse  me  of  injustice  or 
prepossession.  Now  the  people  see,  feel,  and  comprehend  all  this.  Be  as- 
sured, then,  that  the  people  of  France  will  always  conform  to  the  plans  which 
we  propose  for  their  welfare. 

"  Do  not  allow  yourselves  to  be  deceived  by  the  supposed  opposition  which 
has  just  been  alluded  to.  It  exists  only  in  the  saloons  of  Paris,  and  by  no 
means  in  the  great  body  of  the  nation.  In  this  plan,  I  solemnly  declare  I 
have  no  ulterior  view  of  sending  the  national  guard  abroad.  My  thoughts, 
at  this  moment,  are  solely  occupied  in  adopting  measures  at  home  for  the 
safety,  repose,  and  stability  of  France.  Proceed,  then,  to  embody  the  na- 
tional guard,  that  each  citizen  may  know  his  post  in  the  hour  of  need ;  that 
even  M.  Cambaceres  yonder  may  shoulder  a  musket,  should  our  danger  re- 
quire him  so  to  do.  We  shall  thus  have  a  nation  built  of  stone  and  mortar, 
capable  of  resisting  the  attacks  both  of  time  and  men." 


AliCii   OF   TUii   CARBOUSBL. 


576 


NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE. 


[CHAP.  XXXVII. 


The  great  works  of  public  utility  to  which  Napoleon  now  turned  his  en- 
ergies are  too  numerous  to  be  mentioned.  Over  forty  thousand  miles  of  high 
roads  formed  a  vast  network  reticulating  the  empire.  The  monumental 
routes  of  the  Simplon,  Mont  Cenis,  and  Mont  Genevre  were  urged  to  their 
completion.  Fourteen  bridges  were  built,  some  of  which  are  still  regarded 
as  among  the  grandest  monuments  in  Europe.  Two  majestic  canals  were 
dug,  opening  all  France  to  artificial  navigation.  The  amazing  works  con- 
structed at  Antwerp  still  attract  the  admiration  of  the  world.  All  the  for- 
tresses of  the  empire  were  carefully  examined  and  repaired.  Thirty  fount- 
ains, flowing  day  and  night,  embellished  Paris.  Thousands  of  laborers  reared, 
as  if  by  magic,  the  triumphal  arches  of  the  Carrousel  and  the  Etoile.  The 


ARCH  DB  L'ETOILE. 


column  in  the  Place  Vendome,  the  exquisite  temple  of  the  Madeleine,  thft 
facade  of  the  Legislative  Hall,  the  Palace  of  the  New  Exchange,  are  all  from 
the  hand  of  Napoleon. 

France  was  never  before  in  such  a  state  of  activity  and  prosperity.     Per- 


1807.]  POLITICAL  VIEWS.  577 

feet  tranquillity  pervaded  the  empire.  The  popularity  of  Napoleon  was 
boundless.  England  prohibited  all  commerce  upon  the  seas.  The  genius 
of  the  Emperor  opened  a  new  world  of  commerce  upon  the  land.  The  roads 
were  crowded  with  wagons,  and  the  canals  were  covered  with  boats  laden 
with  the  richest  merchandise. 

The  following  candid  admissions  of  Sir  Archibald  Alison,  as  he  quotes  the 
Report  of  the  Minister  of  the  Interior,  will  show  that  the  above  statements 
are  not  exaggerated. 

"  And  these  works,  undertaken  under  the  imperial  government,  were  really 
such  as  to  justify  the  enthusiastic  admiration  of  a  people  even  less  passion- 
ately devoted  than  the  French  to  public  splendor.  They  were  thus  noticed 
in  the  Report  of  the  Minister  of  the  Interior  in  August,  1807,  when  Napoleon 
met  the  Chambers  after  his  return  from  Tilsit,  and,  after  making  every  al- 
lowance for  the  exaggerated  style  of  such  state  papers,  much  remains  to  at- 
tract the  admiration  of  succeeding  ages,  and  demonstrate  the  great  objects 
to  which,  in  domestic  administration,  the  ambition  of  the  Emperor  was  di- 
rected. 

" '  Thirteen  thousand  leagues  of  public  roads,'  says  the  report  of  the  min- 
ister, '  have  been  kept  in  order  or  repaired ;  the  two  greatest  works  under- 
taken for  centuries,  the  roads  of  Mont  Cenis  and  of  the  Simplon,  have,  after 
six  years  of  labor,  been  completed.  The  road  from  Spain  to  Italy  is  in  prog- 
ress ;  the  Apennines  are  the  theatre  of  a  series  of  works  which  will  unite 
Piedmont  to  the  shores  of  the  Mediterranean,  and  complete  the  union  of 
Liguria  to  France;  eighteen  rivers  have  seen  their  navigation  improved,  or 
prolonged  beyond  hitherto  impassable  barriers,  by  means  of  locks,  dikes,  or 
towing  paths  ;  four  bridges  have  been  erected  during  the  last  campaign  ;  ten 
others  are  in  full  progress  ;  ten  canals,  almost  all  commenced  during  the 
present  reign,  are  in  full  activity.  Nor  do  the  maritime  harbors  offer  fewer 
prodigies.  Antwerp,  so  recently  insignificant,  has  become  the  centre  of  our 
great  maritime  preparations ;  for  the  first  time,  that  part  of  the  Scheldt  sees 
vessels  of  seventy-four  and  eighty  guns  floating  on  its  bosom ;  fourteen  ships 
of  the  line  are  on  the  stocks  within  its  walls  ;  many  are  finished,  and  have 
descended  to  Flushing ;  that  harbor  has  seen  its  docks  deepened,  its  entrance 
improved,  and  it  is  already  capable  of  containing  a  squadron.  At  Dunkirk 
and  Calais  piers  have  been  constructed.  At  Cherbourg  two  vast  break- 
waters are  erected.  At  Rochefort  and  Marseilles  equally  important  mari- 
time improvements  are  in  progress.  The  existence  of  our  cotton  manufac- 
tures being  secured,  investigations  are  in  progress  for  the  discovery  of  places 
suited  to  the  culture  of  that  important  article.  The  improvement  of  the 
linen  fabrics  has  been  the  object  of  constant  solicitude.  Veterinary  schools 
have  been  established,  and  have  filled  the  army  and  the  fields  with  skillful 
practitioners.  A  code  is  preparing  for  the  regulation  of  commerce.  The 
school  of  arts  and  mechanics  at  Compeigne  flourishes,  and  has  been  trans- 
ferred to  Chalons ;  others,  on  a  similar  plan,  are  in  the  course  of  formation. 
<  Italy  opens  an  extensive  mart  for  our  industry.  The  war,  changed  into  a 
contest  for  commercial  independence,  has  become  the  greatest  stimulant  to 
French  industry.  Every  one  of  our  conquests,  while  it  is  a  market  closed  to 
England,  is  a  new  encouragement  afforded  to  French  enterprise.  Nor  has 


578  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.  [CHAP.  XXXVII. 

the  capital  of  this  great  empire  been  neglected.  It  is  the  emperor's  wish 
that  that  illustrious  city,  become  the  first  in  the  universe,  should  befit  by  its 
splendor  so  glorious  a  destiny.  At  one  extremity  of  Paris  a  bridge  has  been 
completed,  to  which  victory  has  given  the  name  of  Austerlitz.  At  another, 
a  second  is  commencing,  to  which  Jena  will  afford  a  more  glorious  appella- 
tion. The  Louvre  advances  to  its'  completion,  marking,  in  its  matured  prog., 
ress  through  centuries,  the  successive  ages  of  Francis  I.,  of  Henry  IV.,  of 
Louis  XIV.,  restored  to  life  by  the  voice  of  Napoleon.  Fountains  without 
number  flow  night  and  day  in  all  parts  of  the  city,  testifying,  even  to  the 
humblest  classes,  the  care  which  the  Emperor  bestows  on  their  most  trifling 
accommodation.  Two  triumphal  arches  are  already  erected  or  founded,  one 
in  the  centre  of  the  palace  inhabited  by  the  Genius  of  Victory,  the  other  at 
the  extremity  of  the  most  beautiful  avenue  of  the  finest  city  in  the  world. 
The  tomb  of  Desaix  has  been  erected  on  the  summit  of  the  Alps,  whose 
rugged  precipices  are  not  less  startled  at  the  monument  of  our  perfection  in 
the  arts,  than  they  were  by  the  passage  of  the  artillery  drawn  by  the  arms 
of  valor.  The  fine  arts  in  France  are  occupied  almost  entirely  in  tracing  on 
marble  and  canvas  the  glorious  exploits  of  our  armies,  while  the  mind  of 
the  Emperor,  ever  meditating  fresh  triumphs,  has  selected  for  his  antagonist 
the  Demon  of  Ignorance,  and  by  the  establishment  of  twelve  colleges  for  the 
study  of  law,  and  gratuitous  schools  for  the  study  of  medicine  in  all  the  prin- 
cipal cities  of  the  empire,  has  laid  the  foundation  for  the  extension  of  gen- 
eral knowledge  in  the  most  essential  subjects  of  general  instruction.'  " 

"  When  the  French  people,"  says  Alison,  "saw  this  magnificent  announce- 
ment of  internal  improvement,  contemporaneous  with  the  official  promulga- 
tion of  the  treaty  of  Tilsit,  the  conquest  of  Prussia,  the  restoration  of  the 
Grand  Duchy  of  Warsaw,  and  the  erection  of  the  Kingdom  of  Westphalia,  it 
is  not  surprising  that  they  were  dazzled  by  the  brilliancy  of  the  spectacle, 
and  yielded  to  the  pleasing  illusion  that  the  Revolution,  nursed  in  violence 
and  baptized  in  blood,  was  to  set  amid  a  blaze  of  unprecedented  glory." 

Where  is  there  another  monarch  to  be  found  who  has  shown  such  total 
disregard  for  personal  luxury,  and  such  entire  devotion  to  the  prosperity  of 
his  country  ?  The  French,  who  knew  Napoleon,  loved  him  ;  and  as  his  true 
character  becomes  known  throughout  the  world,  he  will  be  loved  by  every 
generous  heart  in  every  land. 


1807.] 


NAPOLEON  IN  COUNCIL. 


579 


CHAPTER  XXXVIII. 

NAPOLEON     IN     COUNCIL. 

Untiring  Industry  of  Napoleon — Letter  to  the  Minister  of  the  Interior — The  Secretary — Meeting 
of  the  Institute — Expenditures  for  the  Improvement  of  the  City  of  Paris — The  Code  Napoleon 
— The  Writings  of  the  Emperor — The  Painting  by  David — Plans  for  establishing  a  Democratic 
Aristocracy — Calumniations  of  Napoleon — Goldsmith's  Life  of  the  Emperor.  v 

THE  amount  of  intellectual  labor  which  Napoleon  performed  seems  actu- 
ally superhuman.  No  other  man  has  ever  approached  him  in  this  respect. 
His  correspondence,  preserved  in  the  archives  of  Paris,  would  amount  to 
irany  hundred  volumes.  His  genius  illumines  every  subject  upon  which  he 


580  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.  [CHAP.  XXXVIII. 

treats.  The  whole  expanse  of  human  knowledge  seemed  familiar  to  him. 
He  treats  of  war,  government,  legislation,  education,  finance,  political  econ- 
omy, theology,  philosophy,  engineering  —  every  subject  which  can  interest 
the  human  mind,  and  he  is  alike  great  in  all.  Notwithstanding  the  constant 
and  terrible  wars  through  which  his  banded  foes  compelled  him  to  struggle, 
and  all  the  cares  of  an  empire  which  at  times  seemed  to  embrace  the  whole 
of  Europe,  during  the  twenty  years  of  his  reign  he  wrote  or  dictated  more 
than  the  united  works  of  Lope  da  Vega,  Voltaire,  and  Sir  Walter  Scott,  three 
of  the  most  voluminous  writers  of  Spain,  France,  and  England.  His  confi- 
dential correspondence  with  the  Directory,  during  the  two  years  from  1796 
to  1798,  which  was  published  in  Paris  in  1819,  amounts  to  seven  large,  close- 
ly-printed volumes.  The  following  letter  will  be  read  with  interest,  as  a 
specimen  of  his  correspondence  with  his  ministers.  It  strikingly  shows  his 
lofty  spirit,  his  noble  ambition,  his  expanded  views,  his  practical  wisdom,  and 
the  blended  familiarity  and  elevation  of  tone  with  which  he  addressed  his 
ministers : 

"  Fontainebleau,  November  14,  1807. 

"  Monsieur  Cretet,  Minister  of  the  Interior, — You  have  received  the  im- 
perial decree  by  which  I  have  authorized  the  sinking  fund  to  lend  1,600,000 
dollars  to  the  city  of  Paris.  I  suppose  that  you  are  employed  in  taking 
measures  which  may  bring  these  works  to  a  speedy  conclusion,  and  may 
augment  the  revenues  of  the  city.  In  these  works  there  are  some  which 
will  not  be  very  productive,  but  are  merely  for  ornament.  There  are  others, 
snch  as  galleries  over  the  markets,  the  slaughter-houses,  &c.,  which  will  be 
very  productive  ;  but  to  make  them  so  will  require  activity.  The  shops  for 
which  I  have  granted  you  funds  are  not  yet  commenced.  I  suppose  you 
have  taken  up  the  funds  destined  for  the  fountains,  and  that  you  have  em- 
ployed them  provisionally  for  the  machine  at  Marly.  Carry  on  the  whole 
with  spirit.  This  system  of  advancing  money  to  the  city  of  Paris  to  aug- 
ment its  branches  of  revenue,  is  also  intended  to  contribute  to  its  embellish- 
ment. My  intention  is  to  extend  it  to  other  departments. 

"  I  have  many  canals  to  make :  that  from  Dijon  to  Paris ;  that  from  the 
Rhine  to  the  Saone  ;  and  that  from  the  Rhine  to  the  Scheldt.  These  three 
canals  can  be  carried  on  as  vigorously  as  could  be  wished.  My  intention  is, 
independently  of  the  funds  which  are  granted  from  the  revenues  of  the  state, 
to  seek  extraordinary  funds  for  the  three  canals.  For  this  purpose  I  should 
like  to  sell  the  canals  of  St.  Quentin,  the  produce  of  which  might  be  em- 
ployed to  expedite  the  works  of  the  canal  of  Burgundy.  In  fact,  I  would 
sell  even  the  canal  of  Languedoc,  and  apply  the  proceeds  to  the  construction 
of  the  canal  from  the  Rhine  to  the  Saone.  I  suppose  that  the  canal  of  St. 
Quentin  might  be  sold  for  1,600,000  dollars;  that  of  Loing  for  as  much; 
and  the  canal  of  Languedoc  for  more.  There  would  then  be  6,000,000  dol- 
lars procured  immediately,  which  I  should  employ  in  carrying  on  the  three 
great  canals  with  all  possible  rapidity.  I  have  the  money.  The  state  will 
lose  nothing  ;  on  the  contrary,  it  will  gain  ;  since,  if  it  loses  the  revenues  of 
the  canals  of  Loing,  St.  Quentin,  and  that  of  the  south,  it  will  gain  the  prod- 
uct of  the  canals  of  the  Scheldt,  Napoleon,  and  Burgundy. 


1807.]  NAPOLEON  IN  COUNCIL.  581 

"  When  these  works  are  completed,  if  circumstances  permit,  I  shall  sell 
these  in  order  to  make  others.  Thus  my  object  is  to  pursue  a  directly  op- 
posite course  to  that  of  England.  In  England,  a  charter  would  have  been 
granted  for  constructing  the  canal  of  Quentin,  and  the  work  would  have  been 
left  to  capitalists.  I  have,  on  the  contrary,  begun  by  constructing  the  canal 
of  St.  Quentin.  It  has  cost,  I  believe,  1,600,000  dollars;  it  will  produce 
1 00,000  dollars  annually.  I  shall  then  lose  nothing  by  selling  it  to  a  com- 
pany for  what  it  has  cost  me,  since  with  this  money  I  shall  construct  other 
canals.  Make  me,  I  beg  of  you,  a  report  upon  this  subject,  otherwise  we 
shall  die  without  seeing  these  canals  navigated.  In  fact,  it  is  six  years  since 
the  canal  of  St.  Quentin  was  begun,  and  it  is  not  yet  finished.  Now  these 
canals  are  of  much  more  importance.  The  expense  of  that  of  Burgundy  is 
estimated  at  six  millions.  What  can  be  expended  from  the  general  funds  of 
the  state  does  not  exceed  250,000  dollars  yearly.  The  departments  do  not 
furnish  more  than  100,000  dollars.  It  would,  then,  require  twenty  years  to 
finish  this  canal.  What  may  not  happen  in  this  time  ?  Wars  and  inefficient 
men  will  come,  and  the  canals  will  remain  unfinished. 

"The  canal  from  the  Rhine  to  the  Scheldt  will  also  cost  a  large  sum. 
The  general  funds  of  the  state  are  not  sufficient  to  carry  them  on  as  quickly 
as  we  could  wish.  The  canal  of  Napoleon  is  in  the  same  situation.  Let 
me  know  how  much  it  will  be  possible  to  expend  yearly  on  each  of  these 
three  canals.  I  suppose  that,  without  injuring  other  works,  we  might  allow 
to  each  yearly  three  or  four  millions,  and  that  thus,  in  five  or  six  years,  we 
might  see  them  all  navigated.  You  will  inform  me  how  much  the  existing 
imposts  will  furnish  for  these  three  canals ;  how  much  I  have  granted  for 
1808;  and  the  supplementary  funds  which  I  granted  in  1806,  for  carry- 
ing on  these  works  with  the  greatest  activity.  You  will  propose  to  me  to 
sell  the  three  canals  already  finished,  and  at  what  price  it  would  be  best  to 
sell  them.  I  take  upon  myself  the  charge  of  finding  purchasers  :  then  we 
shall  have  money  in  abundance.  You  must  tell  me,  in  your  report,  how 
much  the  three  which  I  wish  speedily  to  finish  are  estimated  to  cost,  and 
compare  it  with  the  sums  which  the  three  old  canals  have  cost  that  I  wish 
to  sell. 

"You  understand  what  I  wish.  My  intention  is  to  go  beyond  your  report. 
Perhaps  it  will  lead  to  opening  a  fund  for  public  works,  into  which  the  pro- 
ceeds of  the  navigation  of  the  canals  would  be  immediately  thrown.  We 
might  thus  grant  to  this  the  proceeds  of  the  sale  of  the  three  canals,  and  of 
others  besides,  if  there  are  any  which  can  be  sold.  With  this  institution  we 
should  change  the  face  of  the  country. 

"  I  have  made  the  glory  of  my  reign  to  consist  in  changing  the  surface  of 
the  territory  of  my  empire.  The  execution  of  these  great  works  is  as  nec- 
essary to  the  interests  of  my  people  as  to  my  own  satisfaction.  I  attach 
equal  importance  and  great  glory  to  the  suppression  of  mendicity.  Funds 
are  not  wanting.  But  it  seems  to  me  that  the  work  proceeds  slowly,  and 
meantime  years  are  passing  away.  We  must  not  pass  through  this  world 
without  leaving  traces  which  may  commend  our  memory  to  posterity. 

"  I  am  going  to  be  absent  for  a  month.  Be  ready  on  the  15th  of  December 
to  answer  all  these  questions,  which  you  will  have  examined  in  detail,  that  J 


582  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.  fCHAP.  XXXVIII. 

may  be  able,  by  a  general  decree,  to  put  the  finishing  blow  to  mendicity. 
You  must  find,  before  the  15th  of  December,  in  the  reserved  funds  and  the 
funds  of  the  communes,  the  necessary  means  for  the  support  of  sixty  or  one 
hundred  houses  for  the  extirpation  of  beggary.  The  places  where  they  shall 
be  erected  must  be  designated,  and  the  regulations  completed.  Do  not  ask 
me  for  three  or  four  months  to  obtain  further  instructions.  You  have  young 
auditors,  intelligent  prefects,  skillful  engineers.  Bring  all  into  action,  and 
do  not  sleep  in  the  ordinary  labors  of  the  bureau.  It  is  necessary,  likewise, 
that,  at  the  same  time,  all  that  relates  to  the  administration  of  the  public 
works  should  be  completed,  so  that  at  the  commencement  of  the  fine  season 
France  may  present  the  spectacle  of  a  country  without  a  single  beggar,  and 
where  all  the  population  may  be  in  action  to  embellish  and  render  productive 
our  immense  territory. 

"  You  must  also  prepare  for  me  all  that  is  necessary  respecting  the  meas- 
ures to  be  taken  for  obtaining,  from  the  draining  of  the  marshes  of  Cottentin 
and  Rochefort,  money  for  supporting  the  fund  for  public  works,  and  for  fin- 
ishing the  dramings  or  preparing  others. 

"  The  winter  evenings  are  long;  fill  your  portfolios,  that  we  may  be  able, 
during  the  evenings  of  these  three  months,  to  discuss  the  means  for  attaining 
great  results.  NAPOLEON." 

At  a  meeting  of  the  Privy  Council,  Napoleon  appeared  much  incensed 
against  one  of  his  generals.  He  attacked  him  with  great  severity,  asserting 
that  his  principles  and  opinions  tended  to  the  entire  subversion  of  the  state. 
A  member  of  the  council,  who  was  a  particular  friend  of  the  absent  general, 
undertook  his  defense,  stating  that  he  lived  quietly  on  his  estate,  without  ob- 
truding his  opinions  upon  others,  and  that,  consequently,  they  were  productive 
of  no  ill  effects.  The  Emperor  vehemently  commenced  a  reply,  when  sud- 
denly he  stopped  short,  and,  turning  to  the  defender  of  the  absent,  said,  "  But 
he  is  your  friend,  sir.  You  do  right  to  defend  him.  I  had  forgotten  it.  Let 
us  speak  of  something  else." 

M.  Daru  was  at  one  time  Secretary  of  State.  He  was  distinguished  for 
his  indefatigable  application  to  business.  Napoleon  said  of  him  that  "  he 
labored  like  an  ox,  while  he  displayed  the  courage  of  a  lion."  On  one  occa- 
sion only  were  his  energies  ever  known  to  fail.  The  Emperor  called  him  at 
midnight  to  write  from  his  dictation.  M.  Daru  was  so  completely  overcome 
by  fatigue  that  he  could  scarcely  hold  his  pen.  At  last  nature  triumphed, 
and  he  fell  asleep  over  his  paper.  After  enjoying  a  sound  nap,  he.  awoke, 
and  to  his  amazement  perceived  the  Emperor  by  his  side,  quietly  engaged  in 
writing.  As  he  sat  for  a  moment  overwhelmed  with  confusion,  his  eyes  met 
those  of  the  Emperor. 

"  Well,  sir,"  said  Napoleon,  with  rather  an  ironical  smile,  "you  see  that  I 
have  been  doing  your  work,  since  you  would  not  do  it  yourself.  I  suppose 
that  you  have  eaten  a  hearty  supper  and  passed  a  pleasant  evening.  But 
business  must  not  be  neglected." 

O 

"  I  pass  a  pleasant  evening,  sire  !"  exclaimed  M.  Daru  ;  "  I  have  been  for 
several  nights  closely  engaged  in  work,  without  any  sleep.  Of  this  your 
majesty  now  sees  the  consequence.  I  am  exceedingly  sorry  for  it." 


1807 


NAPOLEON  IN  COUNCIL. 


583 


NAPOLEON  AND  HIS  SECRETARY. 


"  Why  did  you  not  inform  me  of  this  ?"  said  Napoleon ;  "  I  do  not  wish  to 
kill  you.  Go  to  bed.  Good-night,  M.  Daru." 

Napoleon,  conscious  of  the  influence  wielded  by  literary  and  scientific 
men,  ever  kept  a  watchful  eye  upon  the  meetings  of  the  Institute.  It  was 
an  invariable  rule  of  this  body,  that  a  newly-elected  member  was  to  deliver 
a  speech  eulogistic  of  the  member  whom  he  was  succeeding.  M.  Chateau- 
briand, a  friend  of  the  Bourbons,  was  succeeding  M.  Chenier,  one  of  the 
judges  of  Louis  XVI.  Chateaubriand,  trampling  upon  established  courtesy, 
stigmatized  the  political  principles  of  his  predecessor,  and  proscribed  him  as 
a  regicide.  A  scene  of  uproar  immediately  ensued,  and  a  stormy  and  angry 
debate  agitated  the  assembly.  From  the  Institute  the  dispute  spread  rapidly 
through  Paris.  Old  feuds  were  revived,  and  the  most  bitter  animosities  re- 
kindled. Napoleon  ordered  the  speech  to  be  shown  to  him,  pronounced  it 
extravagant  in  the  extreme,  and  forbade  its  publication.  One  of  the  mem- 
bers of  the  Institute,  who  was  also  a  prominent  officer  in  the  Emperor's 
household,  had  taken  a  lively  part  in  the  discussion,  sustaining  the  views  of 
M.  Chateaubriand. 

At  the  next  levee,  when  a  group  of  the  most  distinguished  men  of  France 
was  assembled  around  the  Emperor,  the  offending  officer  made  his  appear- 
ance. Napoleon  thus  addressed  him : 

"  How  long  is  it,  sir,"  said  he,  with  the  utmost  severity,  "  since  the  Insti- 
tute has  presumed  to  assume  the  character  of  a  political  assembly  ?  The 
province  of  the  Institute  is  to  produce  poetry  and  to  censure  faults  of  lan- 
guage. Let  it  beware  how  it  forsakes  the  domain  of  literature,  or  I  shall 
take  measures  to  bring  it  back  within  its  limits.  And  is  it  possible  that  you, 
sir,  have  sanctioned  such  an  intemperate  harangue  by  your  approbation  ?  If 
M.  de  Chateaubriand  is  insane,  or  disposed  to  malevolence,  a  mad-house  may 
cure  him,  or  a  punishment  correct  him.  Yet  it  may  be  that  the  opinions  he 
has  advanced  are  conscientiously  his  own,  and  he  is  not  obliged  to  surrender 


584  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.  [CHAP.  XXXVIII. 

them  to  my  policy,  which  is  unknown  to  him.  But  with  you  the  case  is  to- 
tally different.  You  are  constantly  near  my  person.  You  are  acquainted 
with  all  my  acts.  You  know  my  will.  There  may  be  an  excuse  in  M.  de 
Chateaubriand's  favor.  There  can  be  none  in  yours. 

"  Sir,  I  hold  you  guilty.  I  consider  your  conduct  as  criminal.  It  tends 
to  bring  us  back  to  the  days  of  disorder  and  confusion,  anarchy  and  blood- 
shed. Are  we  then  banditti?  And  am  I  but  a  usurper?  Sir,  I  did  not 
ascend  the  throne  by  hurling  another  from  it.  I  found  the  crown.  It  had 
fallen.  I  snatched  it  up,  and  the  nation  placed  it  on  my  head.  Respect  the 
nation's  act.  To  submit  facts  that  have  recently  occurred  to  public  discus- 
sion in  the  present  circumstances,  is  to  court  fresh  convulsions,  and  to  be- 
come an  enemy  to  the  public  tranquillity.  The  restoration  of  monarchy  is 
veiled  in  mystery,  and  must  remain  so.  Wherefore  then,  I  pray,  this  new 
proposed  proscription  of  members  of  the  Convention  and  of  regicides  ?  Why 
are  subjects  of  so  delicate  a  nature  again  brought  to  light  ?  To  God  alone 
it  must  belong  to  pronounce  upon  what  is  no  longer  within  the  reach  of  the 
judgment  of  men  !  Have  I  then  lost  the  fruit  of  all  my  care  ?  Have  all 
my  efforts  been  of  so  little  avail,  that  as  soon  as  my  presence  no  longer  re- 
strains you,  you  are  quite  ready  once  more  to  bathe  in  each  other's  blood  ?" 

"  Alas  !  poor  France !"  he  exclaimed,  after  a  moment's  pause,  "  long  yet 
wilt  thou  need  the  guardian's  care.  I  have  done  all  in  my  power  to  quell 
your  dissensions.  To  unite  all  parties  has  been  the  constant  object  of  my 
solicitude.  I  have  made  all  meet  under  the  same  roof,  sit  at  the  same  board, 
and  drink  of  the  same  cup.  I  have  a  right  to  expect  that  you  will  second 
my  endeavors.  Since  I  have  taken  the  reins  of  government,  have  I  ever 
inquired  into  the  lives,  actions,  opinions,  or  writings  of  any  one  ?  Imitate 
my  forbearance.  I  have  ever  had  but  one  aim.  I  have  ever  asked  but  this 
one  question,  'Will  you  sincerely  assist  me  in  promoting  the  true  interest  of 
France  ?'  All  those  who  have  answered  affirmatively  have  been  placed  by 
me  in  a  straight  road,  cased  in  a  rock,  and  without  issue  on  either  side. 
Through  this  I  have  urged  them  on  to  the  other  extremity,  where  my  finger 
pointed  to  the  honor,  the  glory,  and  the  splendor  of  France." 

This  reprimand  was  so  severe,  that  the  person  to  whom  it  was  addressed, 
a  man  of  honor  arid  delicate  feelings,  determined  to  ask  an  audience  the  next 
day,  in  order  to  tender  his  resignation.  He  was  admitted  to  the  presence  of 
the  Emperor,  who  immediately  said  to  him, 

"  My  dear  sir,  you  are  come  on  account  of  the  conversation  of  yesterday. 
You  felt  hurt  on  the  occasion,  and  I  have  felt  no  less  so.  But  it  was  a  piece 
of  advice  which  I  thought  it  right  to  give  to  more  than  one  person.  If  it  has 
the  desired  effect  of  producing  some  public  good,  we  must  not  either  of  us 
regret  the  circumstance.  Think  no  more  about  it." 

Napoleon  introduced  this  year  into  the  financial  department  the  most  rigid 
system  of  accounts  by  double  entry.  The  decree  requiring  this  is  in  force 
to  the  present  day.  It  has  rendered  the  French  system  of  accounts  the  most 
sure,  the  most  accurate,  and  the  most  clear  of  any  in  Europe. 

In  one  of  the  meetings  of  the  council,  Napoleon  proposed  that  long  gal- 
leries, or  rather  streets,  covered  with  glass,  for  pedestrians  only,  should  be 
constructed,  to  shelter  buyers  and  sellers  from  the  vicissitudes  of  the  weather. 


1807.] 


NAPOLEON  IN  COUNCIL. 


585 


This  was  the  origin  of  those  brilliant  Passages,  where  every  visitor  to  Paris 
loiters  away  so  many  pleasant  hours.  Forty  slaughter-houses  had  deformed 
Pans,  filling  the  air  with  pestilent  odors,  and  paining  the  eye  with  the  revolt- 
ing necessities  of  the  shambles.  At  the  suggestion  of  Napoleon  they  were 
all  removed.  Four  large  and  peculiarly  appropriate  houses  were  construct- 
ed for  these  purposes  outside  of  the  city,  and  near  the  four  principal  en- 
trances to  the  metropolis. 


THE    PASSAGES. 


The  generals  and  the  soldiers  who  had  endured  such  wasting  fatigue,  and 
who  had  achieved  such  herculean  enterprises  for  France,  were  most  mag- 
nificently rewarded.  Besides  their  regular  pay,  nearly  four  millions  of  dol- 
lars were  expended  in  gifts,  as  an  expression  of  gratitude.  A  handsome  an- 
nuity was  settled  upon  every  wounded  soldier.  Napoleon  seemed  never 
weary  in  lavishing  favors  upon  those  who,  in  the  fields  of  blood,  had  defend- 
ed and  established  the  independence  of  France. 

He  was  magnificent  in  his  provision  for  others.  He  was  simple,  frugal, 
economical  in  the  highest  degree,  in  every  thing  which  related  to  himself. 
With  an  eagle  eye,  he  guarded  against  the  slightest  misapplication  of  the 
public  funds. 

The  adopted  mother  of  Josephine  having  died  at  Martinique,  he  directed 
that  the  negroes  and  negresses  who  had  served  her  should  be  made  free, 
and  placed  in  a  condition  of  comfort  for  the  rest  of  their  lives.  He  ordered 
the  number  of  Christian  chapels  to  be  increased  to  30,000,  that  the  benefits 
of  divine  service  might  be  extended  to  every  village  in  the  empire.  He  en- 
dowed several  theological  seminaries  to  encourage  suitable  persons  to  entei 
the  priesthood. 


586  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.  [CHAP.  XXXVIII. 

The  nation  insisted  that  the  civic  code,  which  had  become  the  crowning 
glory  of  France,  should  be  called  the  Code  Napoleon. 

"  Assuredly,"  says  Thiers,  "  if  ever  title  was  merited,  it  was  this ;  for 
that  code  was  as  much  the  work  of  Napoleon  as  were  the  victories  of  Aus- 
terlitz  and  of  Jena.  He  had  soldiers  who  lent  him  their  arms.  He  had 
lawyers  who  lent  him  their  knowledge.  But  to  the  force  of  his  will,  to  the 
soundness  of  his  judgment,  was  owing  the  completion  of  that  great  work." 

It  will  remain  through  all  time  a  memorial,  which  never  can  be  sullied, 
of  Napoleon's  genius  and  philanthropy.  The  Emperor  wrote  to  all  the 
princes  under  his  influence,  urging  them  to  introduce  into  their  respective 
states  this  code  of  justice  and  of  civil  equality.  It  was  thus  established  in 
large  portions  of  Europe,  conveying,  wherever  it  went,  perfect  equality  of 
rights,  and  putting  an  end  to  feudal  tyranny. 

In  his  intense  desire  to  promote  the  grandeur  of  France,  Napoleon  appre- 
ciated, perhaps  more  highly  than  any  other  sovereign,  the  glory  of  intellect- 
ual achievements.  Science,  literature,  arts,  he  encouraged  in  every  possible 
way.  He  was  the  first  general  the  world  has  ever  known  who  united  with 
his  army  a  literary  and  scientific  corps,  to  extend  the  bounds  of  human 
knowledge.  Under  his  fostering  care,  Lagrange  gave  a  new  power  to  ab- 
stract calculation.  La  Place,  striding  beyond  the  limits  attained  by  Galileo, 
Kepler,  and  Newton,  rendered  his  name  as  immortal  as  those  celestial  bodies 
whose  movements  he  had  calculated  with  such  sublime  precision.  Cuvier, 
exploring  the  mausoleums  of  past  creations,  revealed  the  wondrous  history 
of  our  planet,  when  "  the  earth  was  without  form  and  void,  and  darkness 
was  upon  the  face  of  the  deep." 

The  world  is  destined  to  be  as  much  astonished  by  the  writings  of  Napo- 
leon as  it  has  been  by  his  deeds.  Neither  Bourbon  nor  Orleanist  has  been 
willing  to  do  justice  to  his  fame.  His  letters,  his  proclamations,  his  bulle- 
tins, his  instructions  to  his  ministers,  glow  with  the  noblest  eloquence  of 
genius.  They  will  soon  be  given  to  the  world ;  and  they  will  disperse 
much  of  that  mist  of  calumny  and  detraction  which  have  so  long  sullied  his 
renown.  No  one  can  peruse  the  papers  of  this  extraordinary  man  without 
admiring  the  majesty  of  his  all-comprehensive  mind.  The  clearness,  the 
precision,  the  fervor,  the  imperious  demonstration,  and  the  noble  simplicity 
which  are  impressed  upon  all  of  his  utterances,  give  him  a  place  in  the  fore- 
most ranks  of  science,  of  literature,  and  of  eloquence. 

"  Singular  destiny,"  exclaims  Thiers,  after  perusing  volumes  of  manu- 
scripts from  his  pen,  "  of  that  prodigious  man,  to  be  the  greatest  writer  of 
his  time,  while  he  was  its  greatest  captain,  its  greatest  legislator,  its  greatest 
administrator" 

Every  man  of  refined  genius  admires  the  classical  productions  of  the 
scholars  of  Greece  and  Rome.  Napoleon,  from  a  natural  appreciation  of 
the  beautiful,  strove  to  create  an  enthusiasm  for  classical  studies  in  the  uni- 
versity. There  is  an  element  of  melancholy  which  pervades  every  noble 
mind.  Amid  the  mausoleums  of  dead  empires  such  spirits  love  to  linger. 
The  utilitarianism  of  Napoleon  was  beautifully  blended  with  the  highest  po- 
etic sensibility  The  sun,  which  ripens  the  corn,  and  fills  the  succulent  herb 
with  nutriment,  also  pencils  with  beauty  the  violet  and  the  rose. 


NAPOLEON  IN  COUNCIL. 


587 


1807.] 

To  encourage  exertion,  and  to  rescue  merit  from  hostile  or  unjust  detrac- 
tion, Napoleon  had  classes  of  the  Institute  organized  to  give  an  impartial  re- 
port upon  the  progress  of  literature,  the  arts,  and  the  sciences.  These  reports 
were  read  to  the  Emperor  in  the  presence  of  the  Council  of  State,  and  mu- 
nificent rewards  were  conferred  upon  the  deserving.  When  the  reading  of 
the  first  report  was  finished,  Napoleon  said  to  the  deputies  of  the  Institute, 

"Gentlemen,  if  the  French  language  is  become  a  universal  language,  it 
is  to  the  men  of  genius  who  have  sat,  or  who  still  sit  among  you,  that  we  are 
indebted  for  this.  I  attach  a  value  to  the  success  of  your  labors.  They 
tend  to  enlighten  my  people.  They  are  essential  to  the  glory  of  my  crown. 
I  have  heard  with  satisfaction  the  report  you  have  just  made  to  me.  You 
may  rely  on  my  protection." 

The  approbation  of  the  Emperor  was  the  highest  reward  which  genius 
could  receive.  Desirous  of  giving  an  impulse  to  the  arts  of  design,  he  visit- 
ed, with  Josephine  and  a  brilliant  assemblage  of  his  court,  the  studio  of  the 


NAPOLEON   IN   THE   STUDIO   OF   DAVID. 


painter  David.  This  distinguished  artist  had  just  completed  the  picture  of  the 
Coronation.  He  had  selected  the  moment  when  the  Emperor  was  placing 
the  crown  upon  the  brow  of  the  Empress.  The  painting  had  been  criticised 
as  rather  representing  the  coronation  of  Josephine  than  that  of  Napoleon. 
The  Emperor  contemplated  for  a  few  moments  in  silence  the  impressive 


588  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.  [CHAP.  XXXVIH. 

scene  which  the  pencil  of  the  artist  had  so  vividly  delineated  ;  then  turning 
to  the  painter,  he  said, 

"  Monsieur  David,  this  is  well — very  well  indeed.  The  Empress,  my  moth- 
er, the  Emperor,  all  are  most  appropriately  placed.  You  have  made  me  a 
French  knight.  I  am  gratified  that  you  have  thus  transmitted  to  future  ages 
the  proofs  of  affection  I  was  desirous  of  testifying  toward  the  Empress." 
Then  advancing  two  steps,  and  turning  toward  the  painter,  he  uncovered 
his  head,  and,  bowing  profoundly,  said,  "  Monsieur  David,  I  salute  you." 

"  Sire,"  replied  the  painter,  with  admirable  tact,  "  I  receive  the  compli- 
ment of  the  Emperor  in  the  name  of  all  the  artists  in  the  empire.  I  am 
happy  in  being  the  individual  one  you  deign  to  make  the  channel  of  such  an 
honor." 

This  painting  was  afterward  suspended  in  the  grand  museum  of  the  Lou- 
vre. Napoleon,  in  a  second  visit,  met  by  appointment  M.  David  and  all  his 
pupils.  He  conferred  upon  those  young  artists  who  had  distinguished  them- 
selves the  decoration  of  the  Legion  of  Honor.  He  also  conferred  upon  M. 
David  the  dignity  of  an  officer  in  that  honorary  corps. 

The  Revolution  had  destroyed  the  feudal  throne  of  the  Bourbons  but  to 
construct  a  democratic  throne  of  vastly  surpassing  splendor.  It  seems  to  be 
essential  to  a  monarchy  that  it  should  be  surrounded  by  an  aristocracy.  Na- 
poleon was  a  democratic  emperor.  He  was  the  choice  of  the  people,  and 
was  ever  studying  their  interests.  He  now  displayed  his  mighty  genius  in 
the  attempt  to  create  a  democratic  aristocracy.  This,  perhaps,  might  have 
been  possible,  by  avoiding  the  incorporation  of  the  hereditary  element.  Na- 
poleon wished  to  surround  his  throne  with  great  families,  who  should  con- 
tribute to  the  splendor  of  French  society  without  doing  violence  to  the  prin- 
ciples of  republican  equality.  He  thought  that  this  could  be  accomplished 
by  allowing  the  members  of  the  new  nobility  no  exclusive  privileges,  and  by 
presenting  these  honorable  distinctions  as  a  reward  to  all  who  could  earn 
them  by  their  services.  He  had  at  his  disposal  immortal  names  to  confer 
upon  those  who  had  performed  immortal  exploits.  The  new  nobility,  proud 
of  titles  won  upon  the  fields  of  Rivoli,  Castiglione,  Montebello,  Auerstadt, 
and  Eylau,  were  regarded  with  contempt  by  the  ancient  aristocracy,  who 
could  trace  a  proud  ancestral  line  through  the  dimness  of  departed  centuries. 

Stable-boys,  tailors'  apprentices,  and  merchants'  clerks,  soaring  upon  the 
pinions  of  genius  from  uncongenial  employments  into  the  regions  of  mighty 
enterprise  and  renown,  though  decorated  with  the  loftiest  titles,  and  burden- 
ed with  wealth,  were  still  regarded  with  contempt  by  the  impoverished  and 
undistinguished  descendants  of  the  Condes,  the  Guises,  and  the  Montmoren- 
cies.  Napoleon  was  fully  conscious  of  this  difficulty.  In  speaking  of  the 
subject  at  St.  Helena,  he  said  : 

"An  aristocracy  is  the  true,  the  only  support  of  a  monarchy.  Without  it, 
the  state  is  a  vessel  without  a  rudder — a  balloon  in  the  air.  A  true  aristoc- 
racy, however,  must  be  ancient.  Therein  consists  its  real  force,  its  talis- 
manic  charm.  That  was  the  only  thing  which  I  could  not  create.  Reason- 
able democracy  will  never  aspire  to  any  thing  more  than  obtaining  an  equal 
power  of  elevation  to  all.  The  true  policy  in  these  times  was  to  employ 
the  remains  of  the  aristocracy  with  the  forms  and  the  spirit  of  democracy. 


1807.]  NAPOLEON  IN  COUNCIL.  599 

Above  all,  it  was  necessary  to  take  advantage  of  the  ancient  historic  names. 
It  was  the  only  way  to  throw  the  halo  of  antiquity  over  our  modern  in- 
stitutions. 

"  My  designs  on  this  were  quite  formed,  but  I  had  not  time  to  bring  them 
to  maturity.  It  was  this  :  that  every  lineal  descendant  of  an  old  marshal  or 
minister  should  be  entitled  at  any  time  to  get  himself  declared  a  duke  by  the 
government  upon  proving  that  he  had  the  requisite  fortune  ;  every  descend- 
ant of  a  general  or  governor  of  a  province  to  obtain  the  title  of  a  count  upon 
obtaining  a  similar  endowment.  This  system  would  have  advanced  some, 
excited  the  hopes  of  others,  awakened  the  emulation  of  all,  without  injuring 
any  one.  Pretty  toys,  it  is  true,  but  such  as  are  indispensable  for  the  gov- 
ernment of  men.  Old  and  corrupted  nations  can  not  be  governed  on  the 
same  principles  with  those  which  are  simple  and  virtuous.  For  one  in  these 
times  who  would  sacrifice  all  to  the  public  good,  there  are  thousands  and 
millions  who  are  governed  only  by  their  interests,  their  vanity,  or  their  en- 
joyment. 

"  To  attempt  to  regenerate  such  a  people  in  a  day  would  be  an  act  of  mad- 
ness. The  true  genius  of  the  workman  consists  in  making  a  right  use  of  the 
materials  which  he  has  at  his  disposal,  to  extract  good  even  from  the  ele- 
ments which  appear  at  first  sight  most  adverse  to  his  designs.  There  is  the 
real  secret  of  the  revival  of  titles,  ribbons,  and  crosses.  And,  after  all,  these 
.toys  are  attended  with  few  inconveniences,  and  are  not  without  some  advant- 
ages. In  the  state  of  civilization  in  which  we  are  placed,  they  are  proper 
to  awaken  the  respect  of  the  multitude,  and  not  without  influence  in  produc- 
ing a  feeling  of  self-respect  in  their  owners.  They  satisfy  the  vanity  of  the 
weak,  without  giving  any  just  cause  of  offense  to  the  strong." 

The  attempt  to  unite  republican  equality  with  imperial  splendor  is  vain. 
But  Napoleon  was  now  involved  in  a  labyrinth  of  events  from  which  no  finite 
wisdom  could  extricate  him.  That  France  was  incapable  of  sustaining  a 
true  republic,  ten  years  of  anarchy  had  conclusively  proved.  But  Napoleon 
was  now  gathering  all  power  into  his  own  hands,  and  surrounding  himself 
with  a  proud  hereditary  aristocracy.  Though  he  was  disposed  to  conse- 
crate all  his  energies  to  the  welfare  of  the  people,  he  was  laying  the  founda- 
tions of  a  perfect  despotism.  He  seems  to  have  had  some  misgivings  him- 
self respecting  the  expediency  of  appointing  an  hereditary  aristocracy. 

O'Meara  remarked  to  Napoleon  at  St.  Helena  that  it  had  excited  some  sur- 
prise that  he  never  gave  a  dukedom  in  France  to  any  person,  although  he  had 
created  marly  dukes  elsewhere. 

He  replied,  "  It  would  have  created  great  discontent  among  the  people. 
If,  for  example,  I  had  made  one  of  my  marshals  Duke  of  Bourgogne,  it  would 
have  excited  great  alarm  in  Bourgogne.  They  would  have  conceived  that 
some  feudal  rights  and  territory  were  attached  to  the  title.  The  nation 
hated  the  old  nobility  so  much,  that  the  creation  of  any  rank  resembling 
them  would  have  given  universal  discontent,  which  I,  powerful  as  I  was, 
dared  not  venture  upon.  I  instituted  the  new  nobility  to  destroy  the  old. 
The  greater  part  of  those  I  created  had  sprung  from  the  people.  Every 
private  soldier  had  a  right  to  look  up  to  the  title  of  duke.  I  believe  that  I 
acted  wrong  in  doing  even  this.  It  lessened  that  system  of  equality  which 
VOL.  II.— T 


590  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.  [CHAP.  XXXVIII. 

pleased  the  people  so  much.  But  if  I  had  created  dukes  with  a  French  title, 
it  would  have  been  considered  as  a  revival  of  the  old  feudal  privileges  with 
which  the  nation  had  been  cursed  so  long." 

The  power  of  Napoleon  was  absolute.  Circumstances  which  he  could 
not  control  rendered  it  necessary  that  it  should  be  so.  It  was  essential  that 
he  should  be  invested  with  dictatorial  authority  to  repel  the  foes  banded 
against  the  independence  of  France.  Every  intelligent  man  in  France  rec- 
ognized this  necessity.  That  Napoleon  devoted  this  absolute  power  to  the 
glory  of  France,  and  not  to  his  own  selfish  indulgence,  no  one  can  deny. 
He  says,  with  his  accustomed  glow  of  eloquence, 

"  I  had  established  a  government  the  most  compact,  carrying  on  its  oper- 
ations with  the  utmost  rapidity,  and  capable  of  the  most  nervous  efforts  ; 
and,  truly,  nothing  less  was  required  to  triumph  over  the  immense  difficul- 
ties with  which  we  were  surrounded,  and  to  produce  the  marvels  which  we 
accomplished.  The  organization  of  the  prefectures,  their  action  and  results, 
were  alike  admirable.  The  same  impulse  was  given  at  the  same  instant  to 
more  than  forty  millions  of  men.  By  the  aid  of  these  centres  of  local  activ- 
ity, the  movement  was  as  rapid  at  all  the  extremities  as  at  the  heart  of  the 
empire.  Strangers  who  visited  us  were  astonished  at  this  system.  They 
never  failed  to  attribute  the  immense  results  which  were  attained  to  that 
uniformity  of  action  pervading  so  great  a  space.  Each  prefect,  with  the  au- 
thority and  local  patronage  with  which  he  was  invested,  was  in  himself  a 
little  emperor.  Nevertheless,  as  he  enjoyed  no  force  but  from  the  central 
authority,  owed  all  his  lustre  to  official  employment,  and  had  no  natural  or 
hereditary  connection  with  the  territory  over  which  his  dominion  extended, 
the  system  had  all  the  advantages  of  the  feudal  government  without  any  of 
its  inconveniences.  It  was  indispensable  to  clothe  them  with  all  that  au- 
thority. I  found  myself  made  dictator  by  the  force  of  circumstances.  It 
was  necessary,  therefore,  that  all  the  minor  springs  should  be  entirely  de- 
pendent on,  and  in  complete  harmony  with,  the  grand  central  moving  power." 

The  efficiency  of  this  government  no  one  can  question.  That  France  was 
driven  to  its  adoption  by  the  incessant  attacks  of  its  foes  can  not  be  denied. 
That  this  alone  enabled  Napoleon  for  twenty  years  to  triumph  over  the  com- 
bined despots  of  Europe  in  arms  against  him,  is  equally  beyond  a  doubt. 
France,  in  her  peril,  surrendered  herself  to  a  dictator  in  whom  she  reposed 
confidence,  and  invested  him  with  absolute  power.  Nobly  did  Napoleon  re- 
quite the  trust.  He  concentrated  every  energy  of  his  body  and  every  thought 
of  his  soul  to  the  promotion  of  the  welfare  of  France.  Wherever  he  erred, 
it  was  in  the  path  of  a  lofty  and  a  generous  ambition. 

His  power  was  as  absolute  as  that  of  Alexander ;  but  the  Czar  was  the 
monarch  of  the  nobles,  Napoleon  the  chosen  sovereign  of  the  people.  The 
centralization  of  power  was,  however,  appalling.  The  Emperor  selected  the. 
members  of  the  Council  of  State,  the  Senate,  and  the  legislative  bodies.  He 
appointed  all  the  officers  in  the  army  and  the  navy.  The  whole  police  of 
France,  all  the  magistrates,  the  judges  of  all  the  courts  ;  all  persons  connect- 
ed with  the  customs,  the  revenue,  and  the  excise ;  all  the  ministers  of  relig- 
ion, the  teachers  in  schools,  academies,  and  universities,  the  postmasters,  and 
all  persons  concerned  in  the  administration  of  roads,  public  buildings,  canals, 


1807.]  NAPOLEON  IN  COUNCIL.  591 

fortresses,  &c.,  were  either  directly  or  indirectly  subjected  to  the  appoint- 
ment of  the  Emperor. 

One  day  Napoleon  at  St.  Helena  was  reading  the  infamous  memoir  of  his 
life  by  Goldsmith.  He  found  himself  there  accused  of  every  crime  which  a 
demon  could  perpetrate.  Calmly  laying  down  the  book,  he  said, 

"  After  all,  let  them  abridge,  suppress,  and  mutilate  as  much  as  they  please, 
they  will  find  it  very  difficult  to  throw  me  entirely  into  the  shade.  The  his- 
torian of  France  can  not  pass  over  the  Empire.  If  he  have  any  honesty,  he 
will  not  fail  to  render  me  my  share  of  justice.  The  facts  speak  of  them- 
selves. They  shine  like  the  sun. 

"  I  closed  the  gulf  of  anarchy  and  cleared  the  chaos.  I  purified  the  Rev- 
olution, dignified  nations,  and  established  kings.  I  excited  every  kind  of 
emulation,  rewarded  every  kind  of  merit,  and  extended  the  limits  of  glory. 
This  is  at  least  something.  And  on  what  point  can  I  be  assailed  on  which 
an  historian  could  not  defend  me  ?  Can  it  be  for  my  intentions  ?  But  even 
here  I  can  find  absolution.  Can  it  be  for  my  despotism?  It  may  be  dem- 
onstrated that  the  dictatorship  was  absolutely  necessary.  Will  it  be  said 
that  I  restrained  liberty  ?  It  can  be  proved  that  licentiousness,  anarchy,  and 
the  greatest  irregularities  still  haunted  the  threshold  of  freedom.  Shall  I  be 
accused  of  having  been  too  fond  of  war  ?  It  can  be  shown  that  I  always  re- 
ceived the  first  attack.  Will  it  be  said  that  I  aimed  at  universal  monarchy  ? 
It  can  be  proved  that  this  was  merely  the  result  of  fortuitous  circumstances, 
and  that  our  enemies  led  me  step  by  step  to  this  determination.  Lastly, 
shall  I  be  blamed  for  my  ambition  ?  This  passion  I  must  doubtless  be  al- 
lowed to  possess,  and  that  in  no  small  degree.  But,  at  the  same  time,  my 
ambition  was  of  the  highest  and  noblest  kind  that  perhaps  ever  existed — that 
of  establishing  and  consecrating  the  empire  of  reason,  and  the  full  exercise 
and  complete  enjoyment  of  all  the  human  faculties.  And  here  the  historian 
will  probably  feel  compelled  to  regret  that  such  ambition  should  not  have 
been  fulfilled  and  gratified.  This  is  my  whole  history  in  a  few  words."* 

*  "  Collated  with  the  eight  hundred  thousand  sterling  ($4,000,000,000)  of  British  debt,  half  of  it 
created  to  put  him  down,  it  is  one  of  the  miracles  of  Napoleon  that  he  waged  all  his  enormous  wars 
without  contracting  a  debt  or  borrowing  a  cent,  without  discounting  a  note  or  using  one  not  forth- 
with convertible  into  coin ;  and  when  expelled  from  the  throne,  left  in  the  cellars  of  his  palace  a 
large  sum — many  millions  in  cash — economized  from  family  show  for  public  service.  The  imperial 
budget  of  France,  when  he  ruled  fifty  millions  of  subjects,  was  little  more  than  half  of  the  royal 
budget  when  Louis  Philippe  reigned  over  thirty-four  millions.  The  standard  of  probity  was  as 
much  higher  in  Napoleon's  time.  Some  years  of  peace  were  purchased  by  Louis  XVIII  and 
Charles  X.  contracting  debts  to  pay  foreign  governments  for  conquering,  and  their  troops  for  occu- 
pying France,  and  to  reimburse  restored  nobles  for  their  estates  confiscated,  because  they  deserted 
and  made  war  upon  their  country.  Those  debts  are  the  crushing  inheritance  and  the  greatest  dif- 
ficulty of  republicanized  France,  which  Napoleon  left  at  least  partly  free,  and  altogether  clear  of 
debt.  Although  it  may  be  said  that  he  supported  France  by  the  conquests  which  England,  by  suc- 
cessive coalitions,  forced  him  to  make,  yet  the  abundance,  regularity,  and  management  of  the  na- 
tional income  and  expenditures  in  his  time,  without  an  idea  of  what  is  now  recognized  as  the  sci- 
ence of  political  economy,  without  paper  money  and  without  debt,  is  a  monument  as  amazing  as 
his  code  of  laws." — IngersolVs  Second  War,  vol.  i.,  p.  157,  second  Series. 


592  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.  [CHAP.  XXXIX. 


CHAPTER  XXXIX. 

SCENES    IN    PARIS. 

Levee  at  the  Tuileries — The  little  Boy — Address  to  the  Council  of  State — Speech  of  the  Presi- 
dent— Visit  of  the  Emperor  to  the  Female  School — Heroism  of  a  young  Lady — Advice  to  Je- 
rome, King  of  Westphalia — Napoleon's  Remarks  at  St.  Helena — Testimony  of  Lockhart — Sir 
Richard  Cobden. 

THE  15th  of  August,  1807,  Napoleon  was  thirty-eight  years  of  age.  A 
brilliant  party  was  assembled  at  the  Tuileries.  It  was  an  evening  of  sur- 
passing loveliness.  All  Paris,  intoxicated  with  enthusiasm,  thronged  the 
spacious  garden  of  the  palace.  With  loud  acclamations  they  called  for  their 
sovereign.  He  repeatedly  appeared  in  the  balcony,  holding  the  Empress  by 
the  hand,  and  surrounded  by  a  brilliant  group.  Spontaneous  bursts  of  ap- 
plause from  one  hundred  thousand  voices  greeted  him  whenever  he  appeared. 
Taking  the  arm  of  his  faithful  friend  Duroc,  Napoleon,  in  disguise,  left  the 
palace,  and  mingled  with  the  groups  crowding  the  garden.  Every  where  he 
heard  his  name  pronounced  with  gratitude  and  love.  A  little  boy  was  shout- 
ing with  transport,  Vive  rEmpereur !  Napoleon  caught  the  child  in  his  arms. 
"Why  do  you  shout  in  that  manner?"  said  he.  "My  father  and  mother," 
replied  the  child,  "taught  me  to  love  and  bless  the  Emperor."  Napoleon 
conversed  with  the  parents.  He  found  that  they  had  fled  from  the  horrors 
of  civil  war  in  Brittany,  and  had  found  employment  and  competence  in  Par- 
is. With  glowing  hearts  they  testified  to  the  blessings  which  Napoleon  had 
conferred  upon  France.  The  next  day  a  present  from  the  Emperor  inform- 
ed them  to  whom  they  had  unbosomed  their  gratitude. 

On  the  ensuing  day,  Napoleon,  accompanied  by  his  marshals,  and  follow- 
ed by  an  immense  concourse  of  people,  met  the  Council  of  State,  the  Senate, 
and  the  Legislative  Body.  He  thus  addressed  them  : 

"  Gentlemen, — Since  your  last  session,  new  wars,  new  triumphs,  new  treat- 
ies of  peace  have  changed  the  political  state  of  Europe.  All  nations  rejoice 
with  one  accord  to  see  the  influence  which  England  exercised  over  the 
Continent  destroyed  forever.  In  all  that  I  have  done,  I  have  had  in  view 
solely  the  prosperity  of  my  people,  more  dear  in  my  eyes  than  my  own 
glory.  I  am  desirous  for  maritime  peace.  No  resentment  shall  be  allowed 
to  interfere  with  this  desire.  But,  whatever  be  the  issue  which  the  decrees 
of  Providence  have  allotted  to  the  maritime  war,  my  people  shall  find  me 
ever  the  same,  and  I  shall  ever  find  my  people  worthy  of  me.  Your  con- 
duct, when  your  Emperor  was  more  than  fifteen  hundred  miles  away,  has 
heightened  my  esteem.  The  proofs  of  attachment  which  you  have  given 
me  have  excited  my  warmest  emotions. 

"  I  have  contemplated  various  plans  for  simplifying  and  improving  our  in- 
stitutions. I  have  created  several  imperial  titles,  to  give  new  lustre  to  dis- 
tinguished subjects,  to  honor  eminent  services  by  eminent  rewards,  and  to 


1807.] 


SCENES  IN  PARIS 


593 


NAPOLEON    AND   THE   CHILD. 


prevent  the  revival  of  any  feudal  title  incompatible  with  our  Constitution. 
My  Minister  of  the  Interior  will  inform  you  of  the  public  works  which  have 
been  commenced  or  finished,  But  what  remains  to  be  done  is  of  far  greater 
importance.  I  intend  that  in  all  parts  of  my  empire,  even  in  the  smallest 
hamlet,  the  prosperity  of  the  citizen  and  the  value  of  land  shall  be  aug- 
mented by  the  effect  of  the  general  system  of  improvement  which  I  have 
conceived.  Gentlemen,  your  assistance  will  be  necessary  for  me  to  arrive 
at  this  great  result.  I  have  a  right  to  rely  firmly  upon  it." 

This  speech  was  heard  with  deep  emotion  and  applauded  with  transport. 
After  Napoleon  had  retired,  the  President  of  the  Legislative  Body  gave  ut- 
terance to  the  almost  unanimous  sentiment  of  France  in  the  following 
words  : 

"  The  picture  set  before  our  eyes  seems  to  present  the  image  of  one  of 
those  pacific  kings  exclusively  engaged  in  the  internal  administration  of  his 


594 


NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE. 


[CHAP.  XXXIX. 

dominion.  And  yet  all  these  useful  labors,  all  these  wise  projects,  were  or- 
dered and  conceived  amid  the  din  of  arms,  on  the  furthest  confines  of  con- 
quered Prussia,  and  on  the  frontiers  of  threatened  Russia.  If  it  be  true  that, 
at  the  distance  of  five  hundred  leagues  from  the  capital,  amid  the  cares  and 
the  fatigues  of  war,  a  hero  prepared  so  many  benefits,  how  is  he  about  to  in- 
crease them  by  returning  among  us  !  The  public  welfare  will  wholly  en- 
gage him,  and  his  glory  will  be  the  more  touching  for  it. 

"  He  displaces,  he  contracts,  he  extends  the  boundaries  of  empires.  All 
are  borne  away  by  his  ascendency.  Well !  this  man,  covered  with  so  much 
glory,  promises  us  still  greater.  Peaceable  and  disarmed,  he  will  prove  that 
this  invincible  force,  which,  as  it  runs,  overturns  thrones  and  empires,  is  be- 
neath that  truly  royal  wisdom  which  preserves  states  by  peace,  which  en- 
riches them  by  agriculture  and  industry,  adorns  them  with  master-pieces  of 
art,  and  founds  them  everlastingly  on  the  twofold  support  of  morality  and 
the  laws." 

Napoleon  took  great  interest  in  the  female  school  which  he  had  establish- 
ed at  Ecouen.  He  often  made  presents  to  the  young  ladies  who  distinguish- 
ed themselves. 

One  day,  on  a  visit,  he  found  all  the  young  ladies  engaged  in  needle-work. 
After  having  addressed  a  few  pleasant  words  to  each  of  the  classes,  he  play- 
fully asked  a  bright-looking  girl, 

"  How  many  needles-full  of  thread  does  it  take  to  make  a  shirt  ?" 

She  archly  replied,  "  Sire,  I  should  need  but  one  if  I  could  have  that  suf 
ficiently  long." 


NAPOLEON   AT  THE   FEMALE   SCHOOL. 


Napoleon  was  so  pleased  with  the  readiness  of  the  reply,  that  he  immedi- 
ately gave  a  gold  chain  to  the  young  lady.  It  became,  of  course,  to  her  a 
priceless  treasure.  All  the  pupils  of  the  school  most  enthusiastically  loved 
the  Emperor. 


1807.]  SCENES  IN  PARIS.  595 

After  the  restoration  of  the  Bourbons,  an  order  was  issued  that  every  thing 
should  be  removed  from  the  institution  which  could  call  to  mind  the  Usurper. 
The  gifts  which  the  pupils  had  received  from  *,he  Emperor  were  taken  from 
them.  But  Miss  Brouard  kept  her  chain  in  her  bosom.  She  had  declared 
that  she  would  part  with  it  only  with  her  life.  One  day  a  servant  perceived 
it.  The  fact  was  reported  to  the  principal.  The  chain  was  demanded.  It 
was  refused.  She  was  reported  to  the  higher  authorities.  The  chain  was 
again  demanded.  She  replied,  "  It  was  the  gift  of  the  Emperor,  and  I  will 
keep  it,  be  the  consequences  what  they  may,  till  I  die."  She  was  imprison- 
ed in  the  Hall  of  Correction,  where  she  remained  in  solitude  several  days. 
Still  she  would  not  yield.  The  whole  school  was  assembled  together,  and 
Miss  Brouard,  though  a  universal  favorite,  was  expelled. 

A  short  time  after,  one  of  the  ladies  of  the  Bourbon  family,  the  Duchess 
of  Angouleme,  made  a  visit  to  the  school.  All  the  young  ladies  were  order- 
ed, as  soon  as  she  should  enter,  to  shout,  "  Vive  le  Roi  /"  in  honor  of  the 
Bourbon  king.  The  duchess  entered,  and,  to  her  utter  consternation,  was 
greeted  with  the  unanimous  acclaim,  "  Vive  TEmpereur!" 

The  Count  de  Lille,  afterward  Louis  XVIII.,  then  residing  in  Russia, 
made  some  movement  indicative  of  a  new  conspiracy  to  recover  the  Bourbon 
throne.  Alexander,  that  his  good  faith  might  not  be  suspected,  communi- 
cated the  fact,  through  General  Savary,  to  Napoleon.  The  Emperor  re- 
plied, "  Thank  the  Emperor  Alexander  for  the  communication  which  he  di- 
rected you  to  make  to  me.  He  is  mistaken  if  he  supposes  that  I  attach  the 
least  importance  to  any  thing  that  the  Count  de  Lille  can  do.  If  he  is  tired 
of  his  residence  in  Russia,  he  may  come  to  Versailles.  I  will  make  every 
necessary  provision  for  him." 

Napoleon  was  minutely  informed  of  every  thing  that  was  passing  in  the 
court  of  St.  Petersburg.  Alexander,  often  the  victim  of  wayward  passions, 
had  become  so  captivated  by  a  beautiful  woman,  that  all  his  time  was  ab- 
sorbed in  devotion  to  her.  At  the  close  of  a  letter  of  diplomatic  instructions, 
Napoleon  wrote  to  his  minister, 

"  It  is  not  a  matter  of  indifference  to  me  to  observe  the  character  of  that 
man  who  was  born  a  sovereign.  A  woman  turns  the  head  of  the  autocrat 
of  all  the  Russias  !  All  the  women  in  the  world  would  not  make  me  lose 
an  hour.  Continue  to  acquaint  me  of  every  thing.  Let  me  know  the  most 
minute  details.  The  private  life  of  a  man  is  a  mirror  in  which  we  may  see 
many  useful  lessons  reflected." 

After  the  marriage  of  Jerome  with  the  daughter  of  the  King  of  Wurtem- 
berg,  as  the  young  couple  left  Paris  for  their  kingdom  of  Westphalia,  Napo- 
leon gave  the  following  instructions  to  his  brother : 

"  My  brother,  I  think  you  ought  to  go  to  Stuttgard,  as  you  have  been  in- 
vited thither  by  the  King  of  Wiirtemberg.  You  will  proceed  thence  to  Cas- 
sel  with  all  the  pomp  with  which  the  hopes  of  your  people  will  induce  1  hem 
to  surround  you.  You  will  convoke  the  deputies  of  the  towrns,  the  ministers 
of  all  religions,  the  deputies  of  the  states  now  existing,  taking  care  that  there 
shall  be  half  not  noble,  half  noble.  Before  that  assembly,  so  composed,  you 
will  receive  the  Constitution  and  swear  to  maintain  it. 

"  Appoint  at  first  only  half  of  your  counselors  of  state.     That  number 


596  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.  [CHAP.  XXXIX. 

will  be  sufficient  for  commencing  business.  Take  care  that  the  majority  be 
composed  of  non-nobles,  but  without  letting  any  one  perceive  this  habitual 
caution  to  keep  up  a  majority  of  the  third  estate  in  all  offices.  I  except  from 
this  some  places  at  court,  to  which,  upon  the  same  principles,  the  highest 
names  must  be  called.  But  in  your  ministries,  in  your  councils,  if  possible, 
in  your  courts  of  appeal,  in  your  administrations,  the  greater  part  of  the  per- 
sons whom  you  employ  should  not  be  nobles.  This  conduct  will  go  to  the 
heart  of  Germany,  and,  perhaps,  mortify  the  other  class.  It  is  sufficient  not 
to  use  any  affectation  in  this  conduct.  Take  care  never  to  enter  into  dis- 
cussions, nor  to  let  it  be  understood  that  you  attach  such  importance  to  the 
advancement  of  the  third  estate.  The  avowed  principle  is  to  select  talents 
wherever  they  are  to  be  found. 

"  What  is  of  particular  consequence  to  me  is,  that  you  delay  not  in  the 
least  the  introduction  of  the  Napoleon  Code.  The  happiness  of  your  people 
is  of  importance  to  me,  not  only  for  the  influence  which  it  may  have  upon 
your  glory  and  mine,  but  also  under  the  point  of  view  of  the  general  system 
of  Europe.  Listen  not  to  those  who  tell  you  that  your  people,  accustomed  to 
servitude,  will  receive  your  benefits  unthankfully.  They  are  more  enlight- 
ened in  the  kingdom  of  Westphalia  than  some  persons  would  fain  persuade 
you.  Your  throne  will  never  be  firmly  founded  but  on  the  confidence  and 
the  love  of  the  population.  What  the  people  of  Germany  desire  with  impa- 
tience is,  that  individuals  who  are  not  noble,  and  possess  talents,  should  have 
an  equal  right  to  your  consideration  and  to  office ;  that  every  species  of 
bondage,  and  all  intermediate  restrictions  between  the  sovereign  and  the 
lowest  class,  should  be  entirely  abolished. 

"  The  benefits  of  the  Napoleon  Code,  the  publicity  of  law  proceedings,  the 
institution  of  juries,  will  be  so  many  distinguished  characteristics  of  your 
monarchy.  And,  if  I  must  tell  you  my  whole  mind,  I  reckon  more  upon 
their  effects  for  the  extension  and  consolidation  of  that  monarchy  than  upon 
the  results  of  the  greatest  victories.  Your  people  must  enjoy  a  liberty,  an 
equality,  a  prosperity  unknown  to  the  other  people  of  Germany.  This  lib- 
eral government  will  produce,  in  one  way  or  another,  changes  the  most  sal- 
utary to  the  system  of  the  confederation  and  to  the  power  of  your  monarchy. 
This  mode  of  governing  will  be  a  stronger  barrier  to  separate  you  from  Prus- 
sia than  the  Elbe,  than  fortresses,  than  the  protection  of  France.  What 
people  would  be  willing  to  return  under  the  arbitrary  Prussian  government 
after  it  has  tasted  the  benefits  of  a  wise  and  liberal  administration  ?  The 
people  of  Germany,  those  of  France,  Italy,  Spain,  desire  equality,  and  require 
liberal  ideas.  It  is  now  several  years  that  I  have  directed  the  affairs  of  Eu- 
rope, and  I  have  had  occasion  to  convince  myself  that  the  grumbling  of  the 
privileged  classes  was  contrary  to  the  general  opinion.  Be  a  constitutional 
king.  If  the  reason  and  the  intelligence  of  your  times  were  not  sufficient  in 
your  position,  good  policy  would  enjoin  it." 

"  It  was  the  subject  of  my  perpetual  dreams,"  said  Napoleon  at  St.  Helena, 
"to  render  Paris  the  real  capital  of  Europe.  I  sometimes  wished  it,  for  in- 
stance, to  become  a  city  with  a  population  of  two,  three,  or  four  millions — in 
a  word,  something  fabulous,  colossal,  unexampled  until  our  days,  and  with 
public  establishments  suitable  to  its  population. 


1807.]  SCENES  IN  PARIS.  597 

"  Had  Heaven  but  granted  me  twenty  years  and  a  little  more  leisure,  an- 
cient Paris  would  have  been  sought  for  in  vain.  Not  a  trace  of  it  would  have 
been  left.  I  should  have  changed  the  face  of  France.  Archimedes  promised 
every  thing  provided  he  was  supplied  with  a  resting-place  for  his  lever.  I 
should  have  done  as  much,  wherever  I  could  have  found  a  point  of  support 
for  my  energy,  my  perseverance,  and  my  budgets.  A  world  might  be  cre- 
ated with  budgets.  I  should  have  displayed  the  difference  between  a  con- 
stitutional emperor  and  a  king  of  France.  The  kings  of  France  have  never 
possessed  any  administrative  or  municipal  institution.  They  have  merely 
shown  themselves  great  lords,  who  ruined  their  men  of  business. 

"  The  nation  itself  has  nothing  in  its  character  but  what  is  transitory  and 
perishable.  Every  thing  is  done  for  the  gratification  of  the  moment  and  of 
caprice — nothing  for  duration.  That  is  our  motto  ;  and  it  is  exemplified  by 
our  manners  in  France.  Every  one  passes  his  life  in  doing  and  undoing. 
Nothing  is  ever  left  behind.  Is  it  not  unbecoming  that  Paris  should  not 
possess  even  a  French  theatre,  or  an  Opera  House,  in  any  respect  worthy  of 
its  high  claims  ? 

"  I  have  often  set  myself  against  the  feasts  which  the  city  of  Paris  wished 
to  give  me.  They  consisted,  of  dinners,  balls,  artificial  fireworks,  at  an  ex- 
pense of  two  or  three  hundred  thousand  dollars,  the  preparations  for  which 
obstructed  the  public  for  several  days,  and  which  afterward  cost  as  much  to 
take  away  as  they  had  cost  in  their  construction.  I  proved  that  with  these 
idle  expenses  they  might  have  erected  lasting  and  magnificent  monuments. 

"  One  must  have  gone  through  as  much  as  I  have  in  order  to  be  acquaint- 
ed with  all  the  difficulties  of  doing  good.  If  the  business  related  to  chim- 
neys, partitions,  and  furniture  for  some  individuals  in  the  imperial  palaces, 
the  work  was  quick  and  effectual.  But  if  it  were  necessary  to  lengthen  the 
garden  of  the  Tuileries,  to  render  some  quarters  wholesome,  to  clean  some 
sewers,  and  to  accomplish  a  task  beneficial  to  the  public,  in  which  some  par- 
ticular person  had  no  direct  interest,  I  found  it  requisite  to  exert  all  the  en- 
ergy of  my  character,  to  write  six,  ten  letters  a  day,  and  to  get  into  a  down- 
right passion.  It  was  in  this  way  that  I  paid  out  as  much  as  six  millions 
of  dollars  in  sewers,  for  which  nobody  was  ever  to  thank  me.  I  pulled  down 
a  property  of  six  millions  in  houses  in  front  of  the  Tuileries  for  the  purpose 
of  forming  the  Carrousel  and  throwing  open  the  Louvre.  What  I  did  is 
immense.  What  I  had  resolved  to  do,  and  what  I  projected,  were  still  much 
more  so." 

Some  may  suppose  that  the  above  account  of  Napoleon's  administrative 
labors  is  the  glowing  eulogy  of  a  friend.  Read,  then,  the  testimony  of  an 
English  historian.  Every  page  of  Lockhart's  Life  of  Napoleon  bears  the 
impress  of  his  hostility  to  the  mighty  emperor  against  whom  England  waged 
such  unrelenting  warfare ;  and  yet  Lockhart  is  constrained  to  witness  to 
the  following  facts  : 

"  Wherever  the  Emperor  was,  in  the  midst  of  his  hottest  campaigns,  he 
examined  the  details  of  administration  at  home  more  closely,  perhaps,  than 
other  sovereigns  of  not  half  so  great  an  empire  did  during  years  of  profound- 
est  peace.  His  dearest  amusement,  when  he  had  nothing  else  to  do,  was  to 
solve  problems  in  geometry  or  algebra.  He  carried  this  passion  into  every 


598  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.  [CHAP.  XXXIX. 

department  of  affairs.  Having  with  his  own  eye  detected  some  errors  of 
importance  in  the  public  accounts  shortly  after  his  administration  began, 
there  prevailed  henceforth,  in  all  the  financial  records  of  the  state,  such 
clearness  and  accuracy  as  are  not  often  exemplified  in  those  of  a  large  pri- 
vate fortune.  Nothing  was  below  his  attention,  and  he  found  time  for  every 
thing.  The  humblest  functionary  -discharged  his  duty  under  a  lively  sense 
of  the  Emperor's  personal  superintendence.  The  omnipresence  of  his  police 
came  in  lieu,  whenever  politics  were  not  touched  upon,  of  the  guarding  pow- 
ers of  a  free  press,  a  free  senate,  and  public  opinion.  Except  in  political 
cases,  the  trial  by  jury  was  the  right  of  every  citizen. 

"  The  Code  Napoleon,  that  elaborate  system  of  jurisprudence-,  in  the  form- 
ation of  which  the  Emperor  labored  personally,  along  with  the  most  eminent 
lawyers  and  enlightened  men  of  the  time,  was  a  boon  of  inestimable  value  to 
France.  '  I  shall  go  down  to  posterity,'  said  he,  with  just  pride,  '  with  the 
Code  in  my  hand.'  It  was  the  first  uniform  system  of  laws  which  the  French 
monarchy  had  ever  possessed,  being  drawn  up  by  consummate  skill  and  wis- 
dom. It  at  this  day  forms  the  code  not  only  of  France,  but  of  a  great  por- 
tion of  Europe  besides.  Justice,  as  between  man  and  man,  was  administer- 
ed on  sound  and  fixed  principles,  and  by  unimpeached  tribunals. 

"  In  the  splendor  of  his  victories,  in  the  magnificence  of  his  roads,  bridges, 
aqueducts,  and  other  monuments,  in  the  general  predominance  to  which  the 
nation  seemed  to  be  raised  through  the  genius  of  its  chief,  compensation  was 
found  for  all  financial  burdens,  consolation  for  all  domestic  calamities,  and  an 
equivalent  for  that  liberty  in  whose  name  the  tyrant  had  achieved  his  first 
glories.  But  it  must  not  be  omitted  that  Napoleon,  in  every  department  of 
his  government,  made  it  his  first  rule  to  employ  the  men  best  fitted,  in  his 
mind,  to  do  honor  to  his  service  by  their  talents  and  diligence. 

"  He  gratified  the  French  nation  by  adorning  the  capital,  and  by  display- 
ing in  the  Tuileries  a  court  as  elaborately  magnificent  as  that  of  Louis  XIV. 
himself.  The  old  nobility,  returning  from  their  exile,  mingled  in  those  proud 
halls  with  the  heroes  of  the  revolutionary  campaigns,  and  over  all  the  cere- 
monies of  these  stately  festivities  Josephine  presided  with  the  grace  and  ele- 
gance of  one  born  to  be  a  queen.  In  the  midst  of  the  pomp  and  splendor  of 
a  court,  in  the  ante-chambers  where  kings  jostled  each  other,  Napoleon  him- 
self preserved  the  plain  and  unadorned  simplicity  of  his  original  dress  and 
manners.  The  great  Emperor  continued  throughout  to  labor  more  diligent- 
ly than  any  subaltern  in  office ;  Napoleon,  as  Emperor,  had  little  time  for 
social  pleasures.  His  personal  friends  were  few.  His  days  were  given  to 
labor,  and  his  nights  to  study.  If  he  was  not  with  his  army  in  the  field,  he 
traversed  the  provinces,  examining  with  his  own  eyes  the  minutest  details 
of  arrangement,  and  even  from  the  centre  of  his  camp  he  Was  continually 
issuing  edicts  which  showed  the  accuracy  of  his  observation  during  those 
journeys,  and  his  anxiety  to  promote,  by  any  means  consistent  with  his  great 
purpose,  the  welfare  of  every  French  district,  town,  or  even  village." 

Such  was  Napoleon  as  delineated  by  the  pen  of  his  enemies.  Napoleon 
left  no  means  untried  to  promote  peace  with  England.  He  exhausted  the 
arts  of  diplomacy  and  of  conciliation  to  secure  that  end.  There  never  was 
a  greater  historic  error  than  to  suppose  Napoleon  accountable  for  those  long 


1807.]  SCENES  IN  PARIS.  599 

wars  which  succeeded  the  French  Revolution.  Mr.  Richard  Cobden,  with  a 
candor  highly  honorable  to  his  stern  sense  of  justice,  says, 

"  There  is  a  prevalent  and  active  belief  among  us  that  that  war  arose  from 
an  unprovoked  and  unjust  attack  made  upon  us  ;  that  we  were  desirous  of 
peace,  but  were  forced  into  hostilities  ;  that,  in  spite  of  our  pacific  intentions, 
our  shores  were  menaced  with  a  French  invasion. 

"  Now,  so  far  is  this  from  being  a  true  statement  of  the  case,  it  is,  I  regret 
to  say,  the  very  opposite  of  the  truth.  /  do  not  hesitate  to  affirm  that  noth- 
ing was  ever  more  conclusively  proved  by  evidence  in  a  court  of  law  than  the 
fact,  resting  upon  historical  documents  and  official  acts,  that  England  was  the 
aggressor  in  the  last  French  war.  It  is  not  enough  to  say  that  France  did 
not  provoke  hostilities.  She  all  but  went  down  on  her  knees  (if  I  may  apply 
such  a  phrase  to  a  nation}  to  avert  a  rupture  with  this  country. 

"  But,  in  truth,  the  originators  of  war  never  pretended  that  they  were  fight- 
ing for  the  liberties  of  the  people  any  where.  Their  avowed  object  was  to 
sustain  the  old  governments  of  Europe.  The  advocates  of  the  War  were  not 
the  friends  of  popular  freedom  even  at  home.  The  Liberal  party  were  ranged 
on  the  side  of  peace — Lansdowne,  Bedford,  and  Lauderdale  in  the  Lords, 
and  Fox,  Sheridan,  and  Grey  in  the  Commons,  were  the  strenuous  opponents 
of  the  war.  They  were  sustained  out  of  doors  by  a  small  minority  of  intel- 
ligent men,  who  saw  through  the  arts  by  which  the  war  was  rendered  popu- 
lar. But — and  it  is  a  mournful  fact — the  advocates  of  peace  were  clamored 
down,  their  persons  and  property  left  insecure,  and  even  their  families  ex- 
posed to  outrage  at  the  hands  of  the  populace.  Yes,  the  whole  truth  must 
be  told,  for  we  require  it  to  be  known  as  some  safeguard  against  a  repetition 
of  the  same  scenes.  The  mass  of  the  people,  then  wholly  uneducated,  were 
instigated  to  join  in  the  cry  for  war  against  France.  It  is  equally  true,  and 
must  be  remembered,  that  when  the  war  had  been  carried  on  for  two  years 
only,  and  when  its  effects  had  been  felt  in  the  high  price  of  food,  diminished 
employment,  and  the  consequent  sufferings  of  the  working  classes,  crowds 
of  people  surrounded  the  king's  carriage  as  he  proceeded  to  the  Houses  of 
Parliament,  shouting  '  Bread  !  bread  ! — Peace  !  peace  !' 

"  But  to  revert  to  the  question  of  the  merits  of  the  last  French  war.  The 
assumption  put  forth  that  we  were  engaged  in  a  strictly  defensive  war  is,  I 
regret  to  say,  historically  untrue.  If  you  will  examine  the  proofs  as  they 
exist  in  the  unchangeable  public  records,  you  will  be  satisfied  of  this.  And 
let  us  not  forget  that  our  history  will  ultimately  be  submitted  to  the  judg- 
ment of  a  tribunal  over  which  Englishmen  will  exercise  no  influence  beyond 
that  which  is  derived  from  the  truth  and  justice  of  their  cause,  and  from 
whose  decision  there  will  be  no  appeal.  I  allude,  of  course,  to  the  collective 
wisdom  and  moral  sense  of  future  generations  of  men.  In  the  case  before 
us,  however,  not  only  are  we  constrained  by  the  evidence  of  facts  to  confess 
that  we  were  engaged  in  an  aggressive  war,  but  the  multiplied  avowals  and 
confessions  of  its  authors  and  partisans  themselves  leave  no  room  to  doubt 
that  they  entered  upon  it  to  put  down  opinions  by  physical  force — one  of  the 
worst,  if  not  the  very  worst,  of  motives  with  which  a  people  can  embark  in 
war." 


600  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.  [CHAP.  XL. 


CHAPTER  XL. 

NEGOTIATIONS    WITH    ALEXANDER. 

England  still  rejects  Peace — Bombardment  of  Copenhagen — Hopes  of  Peace  blasted — Desires  of 
Alexander — Communications  with  Caulaincourt — Proposed  Conference — Decision  of  Napoleon 
respecting  Turkey — Perplexity  of  Austria. 

MUCH  has  been  said  respecting  certain  secret  articles  in  the  treaty  of  Tilsit. 
Napoleon  and  Alexander  privately  agreed  to  unite  their  forces  against  England, 
if  she,  refusing  the  mediation  of  Russia,  should  persist,  as  she  had  now  done 
for  years,  in  embroiling  the  Continent  in  war.  They  also  agreed  to  combine 
against  Turkey,  should  the  Porte  repel  the  mediation  of  France.  The  two 
powers  also  engaged,  should  England  refuse  peace,  unitedly  to  summon 
Sweden,  Denmark,  Portugal,  and  Austria  to  close  their  ports  against  English 
merchandise.  Such  were  the  terms  of  the  occult  treaty. 

Napoleon,  concentrating  all  his  energies  to  the  promotion  of  the  prosper- 
ity of  France,  patiently  awaited  the  result  of  the  negotiations  commenced 
by  Russia  with  England.  He  sent  a  special  embassador  to  Turkey  to  en- 
deavor to  secure  peace  between  that  power  and  Russia.  He  was  successful. 
The  Turk  accepted  his  mediation,  and  the  sword  was  sheathed.  England, 
finding  herself  abandoned  by  all  her  former  allies,  immediately  sought  a  co- 
alition with  Turkey.  She  strove  to  counteract  the  peaceful  influence  of 
France  by  justly  representing  that  Alexander  was  hungering  for  the  prov- 
inces of  the  Turkish  empire.  By  these  means  she  ere  long  roused  Turkey 
again  to  war.  The  mediation  of  Russia  with  England  was  entirely  unsuc- 
cessful. The  cabinet  of  St.  James  at  first  evaded  the  application,  and  then 
proudly,  contemptuously,  and  with  an  energy  which  amazed  the  world,  re- 
jected all  overtures. 

Briefly  we  must  record  this  new  act  of  English  aggression,  which  roused 
the  indignation  of  all  Europe.  The  kingdom  of  Denmark  had  most  studi- 
ously maintained  neutrality.  Jealous  of  the  increasing  power  of  France,  she 
had  stationed  the  Danish  army  upon  her  frontiers.  Apprehending  nothing 
from  England,  her  seaboard  was  entirely  unprotected.  Napoleon,  with  deli- 
cacy but  with  firmness,  had  informed  Denmark  that,  should  England  refuse 
the  mediation  of  Russia,  all  the  powers  of  Europe  must  choose,  in  the  des- 
perate conflict,  the  one  side  or  the  other.  The  most  perfectly  friendly  rela- 
tions then  existed  between  England  and  Denmark.  The  cabinet  of  St. 
James,  apprehensive  that  Napoleon  would  succeed  in  attaching  Denmark  to 
the  Continental  alliance  against  the  sovereign  of  the  seas,  resolved  by  stealth 
to  take  possession  of  the  Danish  fleet.  This  fleet,  unprotected  and  uncon- 
scious of  peril,  was  anchored  in  the  harbor  of  Copenhagen.  Denmark,  at 
peace  with  all  the  world,  had  but  5000  troops  in  the  fortresses  which  sur- 
rounded her  metropolis. 

Secretly  the  English  government  fitted  out  an  expedition.     It  consisted 


1807.] 


NEGOTIATIONS  WITH  ALEXANDER. 


601 


a 
*  *  * 


Pjfft*"  'k  *  f i^  <r  ^        *  * 

sf  ~±  * 

.^  -  _  n  l    E      r  B  -  " 


COPENHAGEN    HARBOR. 


of  25  sail  of  the  line,  40  frigates,  377  transports.  About  30,000  men  were 
conveyed  in  the  fleet.  Suddenly  this  powerful  armament  appeared  in  the 
waters  of  the  Sound,  and  landing  20,000  men,  under  the  command  of  the 

Duke  of  Wellington,  then  Sir  Arthur 
Wellesley,  invested  the  doomed  city 
by  land  and  by  sea.  An  agent  was 
immediately  dispatched  to  the  Prince 
Royal  of  Denmark,  then  regent  of  the 
kingdom,  to  summon  the  surrender  of 
the  fortresses  and  of  the  fleet.  Mr. 
Jackson,  a  man  of  insolent  manners 
and  of  envenomed  spirit,  was  worthy 
of  the  mission.  He  assigned  to  the 
prince,  as  a  reason  for  the  act,  that  the 
British  cabinet  deemed  it  necessary 
to  secure  the  passage  of  the  Sound  and  to  take  the  Danish  fleet,  lest  both 
should  fall  into  the  power  of  the  French.  He  therefore  demanded,  under 
peril  of  a  bombardment,  that  the  fortress,  the  port  of  Copenhagen,  and  the 
fleet  should  be  immediately  surrendered  to  the  English  army.  He  promised 
that  the  whole,  when  the  danger  was  over,  should  be  returned  again  to  Den- 
mark, and  that,  in  the  mean  time,  the  English  would  conduct  as  friends,  and 
pay  for  all  they  should  consume. 

"  And  with  what,"  exclaimed  the  indignant  prince,  "  would  you  pay  for 
our  lost  honor,  if  we  were  to  accede  to  this  infamous  proposal  ?" 

Mr.  Jackson  replied,  "  War  is  war.  One  must  submit  to  its  necessities. 
The  weaker  party  must  yield  to  the  stronger." 

The  interview  was  short  and  bitter.  The  parties  separated.  The  prince, 
unable  to  present  any  resistance,  heroically  enveloped  himself  in  despair. 
The  English  envoy  returned  to  the  fleet,  and  the  signal  was  given  for  the 
fearful  execution  of  the  threatened  doom.  The  English  had  taken  with  them 
an  immense  quantity  of  heavy  artillery.  They  were  also  accompanied  by 
Colonel  Congreve,  who  was  to  make  trial,  for  the  first  time,  of  his  destruct- 
ive rockets.  As  there  were  a  few  thousand  regular  troops  behind  the  ram- 
parts of  the  city,  it  was  not  deemed  prudent  to  attempt  to  carry  the  place  by 
assault. 

The  English,  having  established  themselves  beyond  the  reach  of  danger, 
reared  their  batteries  and  constructed  their  furnaces  for  red-hot  shot.  Calm- 
ly, energetically,  mercilessly,  all  their  arrangements  for  the  awful  deed  were 
consummated.  They  refrained  from  firing  a  single  gun  until  their  furnaces 
were  completed  and  their  batteries  were  in  perfect  readiness  to  rain  down  an 
overwhelming  storm  of  destruction  upon  the  helpless  capital  of  Denmark. 

Nothing  can  be  imagined  more  awful,  more  barbarous,  than  the  bombard- 
ment of  a  crowded  city.  Shot  and  shells  have  no  mercy.  They  are  heed- 
less of  the  cry  of  mothers  and  of  maidens.  They  turn  not  from  the  bed  of 
languishing  nor  from  the  cradle  of  infancy.  Copenhagen  contained  100,000 
inhabitants.  It  was  reposing  in  all  the  quietude  of  peace  and  prosperity. 
On  the  evening  of  the  2d  of  September,  the  appalling  storm  of  war  and  woe 
commenced.  A  tremendous  fire  of  howitzers,  bombs,  and  rockets  burst 


602 


NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE. 


[CHAP.  XL- 


upon  the  city.  The  very  earth  trembled  beneath  the  terrific  thunders  of 
the  cannonade.  During  all  the  long  hours  of  this  dreadful  night,  and  until 
the  noon  of  the  ensuing  day,  the  destruction  and  the  carnage  continued.  The 
city  was  now  on  fire  in  various  quarters.  Hundreds  of  dwellings  were  blown 
to  pieces.  The  streets  were  red  with  the  blood  of  women  and  children. 
Vast  columns  of  smoke  rose  from  the  burning  capital.  The  English  waited 


THE    BOMBARDMENT. 


a  few  hours,  hoping  that  the  chastisement  had  been  sufficiently  severe  to  in- 
duce the  surrender.  General  Peymann,  intrusted  with  the  defense  of  the 
metropolis,  gazed  upon  the  spectacle  of  woe  around  him,  his  heart  almost 
bursting  with  grief  and  indignation.  He  still  maintained  a  firm  and  gloomy 
silence.  The  conflict  in  his  bosom  between  the  dictates  of  humanity  and 
the  pleadings  of  a  high  and  honorable  pride  was  terrific. 


1807.]  NEGOTIATIONS  WITH  ALEXANDER.  603 

In  the  evening  the  English  recommenced  their  fire.  They  kept  it  up  all 
night,  the  whole  of  the  next  day,  and  the  ensuing  night.  Two  thousand  of 
the  citizens  had  now  perished.  Three  hundred  houses  were  burned  to  the 
ground.  Two  thousand  dwellings  had  been  blown  to  pieces  by  the  shells. 
Half  of  the  city  was  in  flames.  Several  beautiful  churches  were  in  ruins. 
The  arsenal  was  on  fire.  For  three  days  and  three  nights  those  demoniac 
engines  of  death,  exploding  in  the  thronged  streets,  in  churches,  chambers, 
parlors,  nurseries,  had  filled  the  city  with  carnage,  frightful  beyond  all  con- 
ception. There  was  no  place  of  safety  for  helpless  infancy  or  for  decrepit 
age.  The  terrific  shells,  crushing  through  the  roofs  of  the  houses,  descend- 
ed to  the  cellars  ;  bursting  with  thunder  peal,  they  buried  the  mangled  forms 
of  the  family  in  the  ruins  of  their  dwellings.  Happy  were  they  who  were 
instantaneously  killed.  The  wounded,  struggling  hopelessly  beneath  the 
ruins,  were  slowly  burned  alive  in  the  smouldering  flames. 

The  fragments  of  shells,  flying  in  every  direction,  produced  ghastly  muti- 
lation. The  mother,  distracted  with  terror,  saw  the  limbs  of  her  infant  torn 
from  its  body.  The  father,  clasping  the  form  of  his  daughter  to  his  bosom, 
witnessed  with  a  delirium  of  agony  that  fair  form  lacerated  and  mangled 
hideously  in  his  arms.  The  thunders  of  the  cannonade,  the  explosion  of  the 
shells,  the  crash  of  falling  dwellings,  the  wide,  wasting  conflagration,  the 
dense  volumes  of  suffocating  smoke,  the  shrieks  of  women  and  children,  the 
pools  of  gore  in  parlors  and  on  pavements,  the  mutilated  forms  of  the  dying 
and  of  the  dead,  presented  a  spectacle  which  no  imagination  can  compass. 
General  Peymann  could  endure  this  horrible  massacre  of  women  and  chil- 
dren no  longer.  Copenhagen  was  surrendered  to  England. 

The  victors  rushed  into  the  city.  Almost  every  house  was  more  or  less 
shattered.  One  eighth  part  of  the  city  was  in  ashes.  It  required  the  ut- 
most exertions  of  both  friend  and  foe  to  arrest  the  conflagration.  They 
found  about  fifty  vessels,  ships,  brigs,  and  frigates,  of  which  they  immediate- 
ly took  possession.  Two  ships  of  the  line  upon  the  stocks  were  burned ; 
three  frigates  were  also  destroyed.  All  the  timber  in  the  ship-yards,  the 
tools  of  the  workmen,  and  an  immense  quantity  of  naval  stores,  were  con- 
veyed on  board  the  English  squadron.  From  the  ramparts  and  the  floating 
batteries  they  took  3500  pieces  of  artillery.  The  prize  money  divided  among 
the  crew  amounted,  as  estimated  by  Admiral  Lord  Gambier,  to  four  million 
eight  hundred  thousand  dollars.  One  half  of  the  English  crews  were  then 
put  on  board  the  Danish  ships.  The  entire  expedition,  leaving  the  hapless 
metropolis  of  the  Danes  drenched  with  blood  and  smouldering  with  fire, 
made  sail  for  the  coast  of  England.  With  triumphant  salutes  and  stream- 
ing banners  of  victory,  the  squadron,  rich  with  the  booty  of  this  buccaneer- 
ing expedition,  entered  the  Thames.  Such  was  the  emphatic  response  which 
the  cabinet  of  St.  James  gave  to  Napoleon's  earnest  appeal  for  peace  through 
the  mediation  of  Russia. 

The  Duke  of  Wellington  had  just  returned  from  boundless  conquests  in 
India.  At  Copenhagen  he  commenced  that  European  career  which  he  aft- 
erward terminated  so  brilliantly  at  Waterloo.  When  the  expedition  return- 
ed to  London,  the  Iron  Duke  received  the  thanks  of  Parliament  for  the  skill 
and  efficiency  with  which  he  had  conducted  the  bombardment.  Copenhac 


604  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.  [CllAP.  XL. 

gen  and  Waterloo  !     The  day  is  not  far  distant  when  England  will  be  will, 
ing  to  forget  them  both.* 

In  reference  to  this  deed,  there  was  but  one  sentiment  throughout  all  Eu- 
rope. Nowhere  was  it  more  severely  condemned  than  in  England.  Dis- 
tinguished members  of  both  houses  of  Parliament,  and  the  masses  of  the 
people,  raised  a  loud  cry  of  indignation.  Lord  Grenville,  Addington,  Sheri- 
dan, Grey,  and  others,  most  vehemently  expressed  their  abhorrence.  All 
idei.  of  peace  was  now  abandoned.  England  on  the  one  hand,  and  Napo- 
leon on  the  other,  prepared  for  the  most  desperate  renewal  of  the  strife. 

Russia  was  extremely  anxious  to  wrest  from  the  Turks  the  provinces  of 
Moldavia  and  Wallachia  upon  the  Danube.  She  would  thus  make  a  long 
stride  toward  Constantinople.  The  Turks,  unaided  by  other  powers,  could 
not  prevent  this  conquest.  Napoleon  was  reluctant  to  allow  Russia  to  make 
such  an  advance  toward  the  Empire  of  the  East.  With  great  hesitancy,  he 
was  at  times  half  disposed,  for  the  sake  of  securing  the  friendship  of  Alexan- 
der, to  consent  to  this  encroachment. 

The  British  cabinet  immediately  dispatched  a  messenger  to  Alexander  to 
endeavor  to  secure  his  favor  by  offering  to  aid  him  in  obtaining  these  prov- 
inces. An  envoy  extraordinary  was  sent  to  Austria  to  dispose  her  to  see 
with  calmness  Moldavia  and  Wallachia  become  the  property  of  the  Russians. 
The  English  embassador  at  St.  Petersburg  endeavored  to  apologize  for  the 
affair  of  Copenhagen.  He  said  that  the  British  ministers  had  merely  en- 
deavored to  deprive  the  common  enemy  of  Europe  of  the  means  of  doing 
mischief ;  that  Russia  ought  to  rejoice  over  the  event  instead  of  being  irri- 
tated by  it  ;  that  England  relied  upon  Russia  to  bring  back  Denmark  to  a 
more  just  appreciation  of  the  occurrence,  and  that  the  fleet  should  be  return- 
ed to  the  Danes  if  Denmark  would  join  against  Napoleon.  Alexander  was 
indignant,  and  returned  a  haughty  reply.  Diplomatic  intercourse  between 
the  two  countries  soon  ceased. 

Alexander  immediately  sent  for  General  Savary,  the  envoy  of  Napoleon, 
and  thus  addressed  him :  "  You  know  that  our  efforts  for  peace  have  ended 
in  war.  I  expected  it ;  but  I  confess  I  did  not  expect  either  the  Copenha- 
gen expedition  or  the  arrogance  of  the  British  cabinet.  My  resolution  is 
taken,  and  I  am  ready  to  fulfill  my  engagements.  ,  I  am  entirely  disposed  to 

*  "  Sir  Arthur  Wellesley,"  say  the  Berkeley  men  in  the  Napoleon  Dynasty,  "  had  been  recalled 
from  the  East  Indies,  where  he  had  achieved  all  his  fame  hitherto  by  a  career  of  robbery  and  crime, 
extortion,  murder,  and  the  extinction  of  nations,  compared  with  which  Napoleon's  worst  acts  of 
usurpation,  in  the  height  of  his  ambition,  paled  into  insignificance.  And  here  we  will  allow  truth 
to  arrest  us  for  a  single  moment,  while  we  enter  our  protest  against  any  of  the  complaints  of  En- 
gland or  of  English  writers  about  the  usurpations  of  Napoleon.  For  the  sole  purpose  of  self-ag- 
grandizement, England  has  robbed  more  territory,  taken  more  lives,  confiscated  more  property,  en- 
slaved more  men,  and  wrought  wider  and  darker  ruin  on  the  plains  of  Asia,  than  Napoleon  can 
ever  be  charged  with,  if  upon  his  single  head  were  to  rain  down  the  curses  of  every  widow  and 
orphan  made  in  Europe  for  a  quarter  of  a  century.  It  is  unholy  mockery  of  truth,  it  is  Puritanic 
cant,  it  is  English  spite  against  Napoleon's  eagles.  England  began,  under  the  administration  of 
Pitt,  the  work  of  crushing  the  French  Republic.  She  kept  it  up  to  gratify  the  ambition  and  spits 
of  her  ministers,  and  she  carried  it  through  to  maintain  the  position  she  had  taken.  It  was  all  a 
costly  and  well-nigh  a  fatal  mistake  for  England ;  and  her  historians  have  no  business  whatever 
to  vent  their  spleen  upon  the  only  man  on  the  Continent  who  ventured  to  set  limits  to  the  proud 
empire  of  Britain."  Strong  and  impassioned  as  is  this  utterance,  it  can  not  be  controverted  by 
facts. 


1807.]  NEGOTIATIONS  WITH  ALEXANDER.  605 

follow  that  conduct  which  shall  best  suit  your  master.  I  have  seen  Napo- 
leon. I  flatter  myself  that  I  have  inspired  him  with  a  part  of  the  sentiments 
with  which  he  has  inspired  me.  I  am  certain  that  he  is  sincere.  O  that  I 
could  see  him  as  at  Tilsit — every  day,  every  hour !  What  talent  for  conver- 
sation !  What  an  understanding !  What  a  genius  !  How  much  should  I 
gain  by  living  frequently  near  him  !  How  many  things  he  has  taught  me  in 
a  few  days !  But'  we  are  so  far  distant !  However,  I  hope  to  visit  him 
soon." 

Alexander  requested  permission  to  purchase  muskets  from  the  French 
manufactories.  "  I  desire,"  said  he,  "  that  the  two  armies,  now  destined  to 
serve  the  same  cause,  may  use  the  same  weapons."  He  also  solicited  per- 
mission to  send  the  cadets  who  were  to  serve  in  the  Russian  navy  to  France 
for  their  education.  These  friendly  expressions  were  accompanied  by  a  mag- 
nificent present  of  furs  for  the  Emperor  Napoleon.  "  I  wish  to  be  his  fur- 
rier," said  Alexander. 

Napoleon  was  greatly  embarrassed.  The  cordial  friendship  of  Alexander 
gratified  him.  He  perceived  the  intensity  of  desire  with  which  this  ambitious 
monarch  was  contemplating  Constantinople  and  a  mighty  empire  in  the  East. 
The  growth  of  Russia  threatened  to  overshadow  Europe,  and  to  subjugate 
the  world.  "  Leaning  upon  the  north  pole,"  with  her  right  hand  grasping 
the  Baltic,  and  her  left  the  Dardanelles,  she  might  claim  universal  sovereign- 
ty. Nothing  would  satisfy  Alexander  but  permission  to  march  toward  the 
East.  Napoleon  earnestly  desired  his  friendship,  but  also  feared  to  make 
concessions  too  dangerous  for  the  repose  of  Europe. 

He  sent  Caulaincourt  to  St.  Petersburg  as  his  confidential  embassador,  in- 
formed him  fully  of  his  embarrassments,  and  urged  him  to  do  every  thing  in 
his  power  to  maintain  the  alliance  without  encouraging  the  designs  of  Alex- 
ander upon  the  Turkish  empire.  That  Caulaincourt  might  worthily  repre- 
sent the  Great  Nation,  Napoleon  allowed  him  the  sum  of  160,000  dollars  a 
year,  and  placed  in  his  suite  several  of  the  most  distinguished  young  men  of 
France.  He  also  wrote  a  letter  to  Alexander,  thanking  him  for  his  presents, 
and  returning  still  more  magnificent  gifts  of  Sevres  porcelain.  Denmark 
promptly  threw  herself  into  the  arms  of  Napoleon.  A  strong  division  of 
French  troops,  at  the  solicitation  of  the  Danish  court,  immediately  entered 
Denmark  for  its  protection. 

Alexander  himself,  having  been  brought  under  the  fascinations  of  Napo- 
leon's mind  at  Tilsit,  was  very  enthusiastic  in  his  admiration  of  his  new  ally. 
But  the  Russian  nobles,  having  never  seen  the  great  enchanter,  trembled  at 
the  advance  of  democratic  freedom.  The  republican  equality  of  France 
would  elevate  the  serf  and  depress  the  noble.  The  Czar  was  willing  that 
his  haughty  lords  should  lose  a  little  of  their  power,  and  that  his  degraded 
serfs  should  become  a  little  more  manly.  Hence  there  arose  two  parties  in 
Russia :  one,  headed  by  the  haughty  queen  mother,  and  embraced  by  most 
of  the  nobles,  was  for  war  with  France  ;  the  emperor  was  at  the  head  of  the 
less  numerous  and  the  less  influential  peace  party. 

Caulaincourt,  conscious  of  the  hostility  still  existing  in  the  bosoms  of  the 
Russian  nobles  toward  Napoleon,  sent  an  employe  into  the  circles  of  the  old 
aristocracy  at  Moscow  to  report  to  him  what  was  said  there.     Freely  the 
VOL.  II.— U 


60G  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.  [CHAP.  XL. 

nobles  censured  the  sudden  change  at  Tilsit,  by  which  the  young-  Czar  had 
espoused  the  policy  of  France.  War  with  England  struck  the  commerce  of 
Russia  a  deadly  blow.  Nothing,  they  said,  could  compensate  for  such  sac- 
rifices but  obtaining  possession  of  Moldavia  and  Wallachia.  Napoleon,  how- 
ever, they  affirmed,  will  never  allow  Russia  to  take  those  fine  provinces. 

Caulaincourt  immediately  transmitted  these  particulars  to  Napoleon.  He 
assured  the  Emperor  that,  notwithstanding  the  sincerity  of  Alexander,  the 
court  of  Russia,  deeply  mortified,  could  not  be  relied  upon.  Napoleon  pon- 
dered the  question  long  and  anxiously.  The  alliance  of  Russia  was  of  vital 
importance.  The  aggressive  power  of  Russia,  overshadowing  Europe  with 
its  gloom  of  despotism,  was  greatly  to  be  dreaded.  The  Turks,  having  de- 
posed, imprisoned,  and  finally  put  to  death  Sultan  Selim,  the  friend  of  Na- 
poleon, were  now  cutting  off  the  heads  of  all  who  were  in  favor  of  alliance 
with  France.  The  agents  of  England  were  busy  in  rousing  the  barbarian 
Turks.  They  did  not  hold  themselves  accountable  for  the  excesses  which 
ensued. 

Napoleon  was  not  much  troubled  with  conscientious  scruples  about  trans- 
ferring the  sovereignty  of  Turkish  provinces  to  Russia.  The  only  claims 
the  Turks  had  to  those  provinces  were  claims  obtained  by  fire  and  sword — 
by  outrages,  the  recital  of  which  causes  the  ear  to  tingle.  The  right  of  proud 
despots  to  rob  a  people  of  liberty  and  of  happiness  is  not  a  very  sacred  right. 
Bad  as  was  the  government  of  Russia,  the  government  of  Turkey  was  still 
worse.  Napoleon  consequently  did  not  hesitate  to  consent  to  the  transfer  of 
these  provinces  because  he  thought  it  would  be  wrong,  but  simply  because 
he  thought  it  would  be  impolitic.  The  Turkish  government,  waging  now  a 
savage  war  against  him,  and  in  alliance  with  England,  his  ever  relentless  foe, 
could  claim  from  his  hand  no  special  protection.  Napoleon  could  not,  how- 
ever, merely  step  aside,  and  let  Turkey  and  Russia  settle  their  difficulties  be- 
tween themselves.  Turkey  and  England  were  now  united  as  one  power 
against  France.  The  Turks,  in  defiance  of  Napoleon's  mediation,  had  re- 
newed the  war  against  Alexander.  France  was  consequently  pledged  by 
the  treaty  of  Tilsit  to  unite  her  armies  with  those  of  Russia. 

Under  these  circumstances,  Napoleon  proposed  a  conference  with  Alexan- 
der and  with  Francis  of  Austria,  to  consider  the  whole  Turkish  question.  He 
also  suggested  a  grand,  gigantic  enterprise  of  the  three  united  powers,  to 
cross  the  continent  of  Asia,  and  attack  the  English  in  the  territories  which 
they  had  invaded  in  India.  Austria  was  deeply  interested  in  this  matter. 
Already  she  was  overshadowed  by  the  colossal  empire  of  the  North.  To 
have  the  mouths  of  the  Danube,  the  Mississippi  of  Austria,  in  the  hands  of 
the  Turks,  indolent  as  they  were,  was  bad  enough.  The  transfer  of  the  por- 
tals of  that  majestic  stream  to  the  custody  of  her  great  rival,  Russia,  was  to 
be  resisted  at  all  hazards.  Alexander  received  the  proposal  of  a  conference 
with  transports  of  joy.  The  acquisition  of  the  coveted  provinces  would  add 
to  the  glory  of  his  reign,  would  immeasurably  increase  the  prospective  great- 
ness of  Russia,  and  would  compel  the  nobles  to  a  cordial  approval  of  his  al- 
liance with  France.  So  deeply  was  Alexander  excited,  that  he  read  the  let' 
ter  of  Napoleon  with  trembling  eagerness.  Caulaincourt,  who  had  delivered 
to  him  the  letter,  was  present. 


1807.]  NEGOTIATIONS  WITH  ALEXANDER.  607 

"Ah !"  exclaimed  Alexander,  again  and  again,  as  he  read  the  welcome  lines, 
"  the  great  man !  the  great  man  !  Tell  him  that  I  am  devoted  to  him  for 
life.  My  empire,  my  armies,  are  all  at  his  disposal.  When  I  ask  him  to 
grant  something  to  satisfy  the  pride  of  the  Russian  nation,  it  is  not  from  am- 
bition that  I  speak.  I  wish  to  give  him  that  nation  whole  and  entire,  and  as 
devoted  to  his  great  projects  as  I  am  myself.  Your  master  purposes  to  in- 
terest Austria  in  the  dismemberment  of  the  Turkish  empire.  He  is  in  the 
right.  It  is  a  wise  conception.  I  cordially  join  in  it. 

"  He  designs  an  expedition  to  India.  I  consent  to  that  too.  I  have  al- 
ready made  him  acquainted,  in  our  long  conversations  at  Tilsit,  with  the  dif- 
ficulties attending  it.  He  is  accustomed  to  take  no  account  of  obstacles. 
Nevertheless,  the  climate  and  distances  here  present  such  as  surpass  all  that 
he  can  imagine.  But  let  him  be  easy.  The  preparations  on  my  part  shall 
be  proportioned  to  the  difficulties.  We  must  come  to  an  understanding  about 
the  territories  which  we  are  going  to  wrest  from  Turkish  barbarism.  This 
subject,  however,  can  be  usefully  discussed  only  in  an  interview  between  mo 
and  Napoleon.  As  soon  as  our  ideas  have  arrived  at  a  commencement  of 
maturity,  I  shall  leave  St.  Petersburg,  and  go  to  meet  your  emperor  at  what- 
ever distance  he  pleases.  I  should  like  to  go  as  far  as  Paris.  But  I  can 
not.  Besides,  it  is  a  meeting  upon  business  which  we  want,  not  a  meeting 
for  parade  and  pleasure.  We  might  choose  Weimar,  where  we  would  be 
among  our  own  family.  But  even  there  we  should  be  annoyed  by  a  thou- 
sand things.  At  Erfurt  we  should  be  more  free,  more  to  ourselves.  Propose 
that  place  to  your  sovereign.  When  his  answer  arrives,  I  will  set  out  imme- 
diately. I  shall  travel  like  a  courier." 

Here  originated  the  idea  of  the  celebrated  conference  which  was  soon  held 
at  Erfurt.  After  many  long  interviews  between  the  Russian  minister  and 
the  French  embassador,  two  plans  were  addressed  to  Napoleon  for  his  con- 
sideration. The  one  proposed  but  a  partial  division  of  the  Turkish  empire. 
The  Turks  were  to  be  left  in  possession  of  the  Dardanelles,  the  Bosphorus, 
and  of  all  their  Asiatic  possessions.  Russia  was  to  have  the  coveted  prov- 
inces of  Moldavia  and  Wallachia,  upon  the  left  bank  of  the  Danube,  and 
Bulgaria  upon  the  right.  Austria,  as  a  consolation  for  seeing  the  Colossus 
of  the  North  take  so  long  a  step  toward  universal  power,  was  to  receive  Ser- 
via  and  Bosnia.  Greece  was  to  be  emancipated  from  its  Turkish  oppress- 
ors, and  placed  under  the  protection  of  France.  The  second  plan  was  bold 
and  gigantic  in  the  extreme.  All  of  Europe  and  all  of  Asia  Minor  were  to 
be  rescued  from  Turkish  sway. 

Russia  was  to  gratify  her  long  and  intensely-cherished  ambition  in  taking 
possession  of  Constantinople  and  all  the  adjoining  provinces  on  each  side  of 
the  Bosporus.  Austria  was  to  receive  a  rich  accession  to  her  territory  in 
the  partition.  All  of  Greece,  all  the  islands  of  the  Archipelago,  the  Straits 
of  the  Dardanelles,  Cyprus,  Syria,,  and  Egypt,  were  to  be  transferred  to 
France.  Such  were  the  plans  proposed  by  the  Russian  cabinet  to  Napoleon, 
It  was  not  deemed  prudent  to  affix  any  signature  to  a  paper  containing  prop- 
ositions of  such  startling  magnitude.  As  the  documents  were  placed  in  the 
hands  of  the  French  embassador  to  be  conveyed  to  Napoleon,  Alexander, 
whose  ambition  was  excited  to  its  highest  pulsations,  said  to  him,  "Tell 


COS  NAPOLEON  -BONAPARTE.  [CHAP.  XL. 

Napoleon  that  this  note  meets  my  full  approbation.     It  is  an  authentic  ex- 
pression of  the  ideas  of  the  Russian  cabinet."* 

*  This  extraordinary  document,  so  characteristic  of  the  times,  and  of  the  illustrious  personages 
then,  by  their  position  and  energies,  controlling  the  fate  of  Europe,  we  give  in  full,  unaltered  and 
unabridged. 

"  Since  his  majesty,  the  Emperor  of  the  French  and  the  King  of  Italy,  &c.,  has  recently  adjudged 
that,  in  order  to  attain  a  general  peace,  and  to  secure  the  tranquillity  of  Europe,  it  would  be  expe- 
dient to  weaken  the  Ottoman  empire  by  the  dismemberment  of  its  provinces,  the  Emperor  Alex- 
ander, faithful  to  his  engagements  and  to  his  friendship,  is  ready  to  concur  in  it. 

"  The  first  idea,  which  could  not  fail  to  present  itself  to  the  Emperor  of  all  the  Russias,  who  is 
fond  of  calling  to  mind  the  occurrences  at  Tilsit,  when  this  overture  was  made  to  him,  was,  that  the 
Emperor,  his  ally,  purposed  to  proceed  immediately  to  the  execution  of  what  the  two  monarchs  had 
agreed  upon  in  the  treaty  of  alliance  relative  to  the  Turks  ;  and  that  he  added  to  it  the  proposal  of 
an  expedition  to  India. 

"  It  had  been  settled  at  Tilsit  that  the  Ottoman  power  was  to  be  driven  back  into  Asia,  retaining 
in  Europe  nothing  but  the  city  of  Constantinople  and  Roumelia. 

"  There  was  drawn  at  the  same  time  this  consequence,  that  the  Emperor  of  the  French  should 
acquire  Albania,  and  Morea,  and  the  island  of  Candia. 

"  Wallachia  and  Moldavia  were  next  allotted  to  Russia,  giving  that  empire  the  Danube  for  it* 
boundary,  comprehending  Bessarabia,  which  is,  in  fact,  a  strip  of  sea-coast,  and  which  is  commonly 
considered  as  forming  part  of  Moldavia.  If  to  this  portion  be  added  Bulgaria,  the  Emperor  is  ready 
to  concur  in  the  expedition  to  India,  of  which  there  had  been  then  no  question,  provided  that  this 
expedition  to  India,  as  the  Emperor  Napoleon  himself  has  just  traced  its  route,  shall  proceed  through 
Asia  Minor. 

"  The  Emperor  Alexander  applauded  himself  for  the  idea  of  gaining  the  concurrence  of  a  corps 
of  Austrian  troops  in  the  expedition  to  India,  and  as  the  Emperor,  his  ally,  seemed  to  wish  that  it 
should  not  be  numerous,  he  conceives  that  this  concurrence  would  be  adequately  compensated  by 
awarding  to  Austria  Turkish  Croatia  and  Bosnia,  unless  the  Emperor  of  the  French  should  find  it 
convenient  to  retain  a  portion  of  them.  There  might,  moreover,  be  offered  to  Austria  a  less  direct 
but  very  considerable  interest,  by  settling  the  future  condition  of  Servia,  incontestably  one  of  the 
finest  provinces  of  the  Ottoman  empire,  in  the  following  manner. 

"  The  Servians  are  a  warlike  people,  and  that  quality,  which  always  commands  esteem,  must  ex- 
cite a  wish  to  regulate  their  lot  judiciously. 

"  The  Servians,  fraught  with  a  feeling  of  just  vengeance  against  the  Turks,  have  boldly  shaken 
off  the  yoke  of  their  oppressors,  and  are,  it  is  said,  resolved  never  to  wear  it  again.  In  order  to 
consolidate  peace,  it  seems  necessary,  therefore,  to  make  them  independent  of  the  Turks. 

"  The  peace  of  Tilsit  determines  nothing  in  regard  to  them.  Their  own  wish,  expressed  strongly 
and  more  than  once,  has  led  them  to  implore  the  Emperor  Alexander  to  admit  them  into  the  num- 
ber of  his  subjects.  This  attachment  to  his  person  makes  him  desirous  that  they  should  live  happy 
and  content,  without  insisting  upon  extending  his  sway.  His  majesty  seeks  no  acquisition  that 
could  obstruct  peace.  He  makes  with  pleasure  this  sacrifice,  and  all  those  which  can  contribute  to 
render  it  speedy  and  solid.  He  proposes,  in  consequence,  to  erect  Servia  into  an  independent  king- 
dom, to  give  its  crown  to  one  of  the  archdukes  who  is  not  the  head  of  any  sovereign  branch,  and 
who  is  sufficiently  remote  from  the  succession  to  the  throne  of  Austria ;  and  in  this  case  it  should 
be  stipulated  that  this  kingdom  should  never  be  incorporated  with  the  mass  of  the  dominions  of 
that  house. 

"  This  whole  supposition  of  the  dismemberment  of  the  Turkish  provinces,  as  explained  above, 
being  founded  upon  the  engagements  at  Tilsit,  has  not  appeared  to  oflfer  any  difficulty  to  the  two 
persons  commissioned  by  the  two  emperors  to  discuss  together  the  means  of  attaining  the  ends 
proposed  by  their  imperial  majesties. 

"  The  Emperor  of  Russia  is  ready  to  take  part  in  a  treaty  between  the  three  emperors  which 
should  fix  the  conditions  above  expressed  ;  but,  on  the  other  hand,  having  conceived  that  the  letter 
which  he  recently  received  from  the  Emperor  of  the  French  seemed  to  indicate  the  resolution  of  a 
much  more  extended  dismemberment  of  the  Ottoman  empire  than  that  which  had  been  projected 
between  them  at  Tilsit,  that  monarch,  in  order  to  meet  the  interests  of  the  three  imperial  courts, 
and  particularly  in  order  to  give  the  Emperor,  his  ally,  all  the  proofs  of  friendship  and  deference 
that  are  in  his  power,  has  declared  that,  without  wanting  a  further  diminution  of  the  strength  of 
the  Ottoman  Porte,  he  would  cheerfully  concur  in  it. 

"  He  has  laid  down  as  a  principle  of  his  interest  in  this  <-r".ttrr  partition,  that  his  share  of  tho 


1807.]  NEGOTIATIONS  WITH  ALEXANDER.  609 

Upon  receiving  this  communication,  Napoleon  peremptorily  refused  his 
assent  to  the  latter  plan.  No  consideration  could  induce  him  to  permit 
Russia  to  take  possession  of  Constantinople.  He  was  ready  to  break  the 

increased  acquisition  should  be  moderate  in  extent  or  magnitude,  and  that  he  would  consent  that 
the  share  of  his  ally  in  particular  should  be  marked  out  of  much  larger  proportion.  His  majesty 
has  added  that  beside  this  principle  of  moderation  he  placed  one  of  wisdom,  which  consisted  in  not 
finding  himself,  by  this  new  plan  of  partition,  worse  placed  than  he  is  at  the  present  in  regard  to 
boundaries  and  commercial  relations. 

-  "  Setting  out  with  these  two  principles,  the  Emperor  Alexander  would  see,  not  only  without 
jealousy,  but  with  pleasure,  the  Emperor  Napoleon  acquire  and  incorporate  with  his  dominion,  in 
addition  to  what  has  been  mentioned  above,  all  the  islands  of  the  Archipelago,  Cyprus,  Rhodes, 
and  even  whatever  is  left  of  the  seaports  of  the  Levant,  Syria,  and  Egypt. 

"  In  case  of  this  more  extensive  partition,  the  Emperor  Alexander  would  change  his  preceding 
opinion  respecting  the  state  of  Servia.  Studying  to  form  an  honorable  and  highly  advantageous 
share  for  the  house  of  Austria,  he  should  wish  that  Servia  should  be  incorporated  with  the  mass  of 
the  Austrian  dominions,  and  that  there  should  be  added  to  it  Macedonia,  with  the  exception  of  that 
part  of  Macedonia  which  France  might  desire  in  order  to  fortify  her  Albanian  frontier,  so  as  that 
France  might  obtain  Salonichi.  This  line  of  the  Austrian  frontier  might  be  drawn  from  Scopia  to 
Orphane,  and  would  make  the  power  of  the  house  of  Austria  extend  to  the  sea, 

"  Croatia  might  belong  to  France  or  to  Austria,  as  the  Emperor  Napoleon  pleases. 

"  The  Emperor  Alexander  can  not  disguise  from  his  ally  that,  finding  a  particular  satisfaction  in 
all  that  has  been  said  at  Tilsit,  he  places,  according  to  the  advice  of  the  Emperor,  his  friend,  those 
possessions  of  the  house  of  Austria  between  theirs,  in  order  to  avoid  the  point  of  contact,  always 
so  liable  to  cool  friendship. 

"  The  share  of  Russia  in  this  new  and  extensive  partition  would  have  added  to  that  which  was 
awarded  to  her  in  the  preceding  plan,  the  possession  of  the  city  of  Constantinople,  with  a  radius 
of  a  few  leagues  in  Asia ;  and  in  Europe,  part  of  Roumelia,  so  as  that  the  frontier  of  Russia,  on 
the  side  of  the  new  possessions  of  Austria,  setting  out  from  Bulgaria,  should  follow  the  frontier  of 
Servia  to  a  little  beyond  Solismick,  and  the  chain  of  mountains  which  runs  from  Solismick  to  Tray- 
anpol  inclusive,  and  then  the  River  Moriza  to  the  sea. 

"  In  the  conversation  which  has  taken  place  respecting  this  second  plan  of  partition,  there  has 
bfcen  this  difference  of  opinion,  that  one  of  the  two  persons  conceived  that,  if  Russia  were  to  pos- 
sess Constantinople,  France  ought  to  possess  the  Dardanelles,  or  at  least  to  appropriate  to  herself 
that  which  was  on  the  Asiatic  side.  This  assertion  was  contested,  on  the  other  part,  upon  the 
ground  of  the  immense  disproportion  proposed  to  be  made  in  the  shares  of  this  new  and  greater  par- 
tition, and  that  even  the  occupation  of  the  fort  would  utterly  destroy  this  principle  of  the  Emperor 
of  Russia  not  to  be  worse  placed  than  he  now  is  in  regard  to  his  geographical  and  commercial  re- 
lations. 

"  The  Emperor  Alexander,  moved  by  the  feeling  of  his  extreme  friendship  for  the  Emperor  Na- 
poleon, has  declared,  with  a  view  to  remove  the  difficulty,  Istly.  That  he  would  agree  to  a  mili- 
tary road  for  France  running  through  the  new  possessions  of  Austria  and  Russia,  opening  to  her 
a  military  route  to  the  ports  of  Syria.  2dly.  That,  if  the  Emperor  Napoleon  wished  to  possess 
Smyrna,  or  any  other  port  on  the  coast  of  Natolia,  from  the  point  of  that  coast  which  is  opposite  to 
Mytilene  to  that  which  is  situated  opposite  to  Rhodes,  and  should  send  troops  thither  to  conquer 
them,  the  Emperor  Alexander  is  ready  to  assist  in  this  enterprise,  by  joining,  for  this  purpose,  a 
corps  of  his  troops  to  the  French  troops.  3dly.  That  if  Smyrna,  or  any  other  possession  on  the 
coast  of  Natolia,  such  as  has  just  been  pointed  out,  having  come  under  the  dominion  of  France, 
should  afterward  be  attacked,  not  merely  by  the  Turks,  but  even  by  the  English,  in  hatred  of  that 
treaty,  his  majesty  the  Emperor  of  Russia  will,  in  that  case,  proceed  to  the  aid  of  his  ally  when- 
ever he  shall  be  required  to  do  so. 

"  4thly  His  majesty  thinks  that  the  house  of  Austria  might,  on  the  same  footing,  assist  France 
in  taking  possession  of  Salonichi,  and  proceed  to  the  aid  of  that  port  whenever  it  shall  be  required 
of  her 

"  Sthly  The  Emperor  of  Russia  declares  that  he  has  no  wish  to  acquire  the  south  coast  of  the 
Black  Sea,  which  is  in  Asia,  though,  in  the  discussion,  it  was  thought  that  it  might  be  desirable  for 
him. 

"  6thly  The  Emperor  of  Russia  has  declared  that,  whatever  might  be  the  success  of  his  troops 
m  India,  he  should  not  desire  to  possess  any  thing  there,  and  that  he  would  cheerfully  consent  that 
Frarce  should  make  for  herself  all  the  territorial  acquisitions  in  India  which  she  might  think  fit; 


610  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.  [CllAP.  XL. 

alliance,  and  to  see  that  immense  power  again  arrayed  against  him,  rather 
than  thus  betray  the  liberties  of  Europe. 

"  Constantinople,"  said  Alexander,  "is  the  key  of  my  house." 

"  Constantinople  !"  exclaimed  Napoleon.  "It  is  the  dominion  of  the 
world." 

The  possession  of  European  Turkey  will  enable  Russia  to  bid  defiance  to 
every  foe.  The  Black  Sea  becomes  a  Russian  harbor  which  no  enemy  can 
penetrate.  How  this  conquest  is  to  be  prevented  is  now  the  great  problem 
which  agitates  every  cabinet  in  the  Old  World.  The  foresight  of  Napoleon 
anticipated  this  question.  "  In  half  a  century,"  said  he  at  St.  Helena,  "Eu- 
rope will  become  either  Republican  or  Cossack."  Republican  equality  was 
entombed  at  St.  Helena.  Europe  now  promises  to  become  Cossack. 

Austria  was  in  great  perplexity.  She  dreaded  the  liberal  opinions  which 
France  was  every  where  diffusing.  She  was  inconsolable  for  the  loss  of 
Italy.  She  was  intensely  mortified  by  the  defeats  of  Ulm  and  Austerlitz. 
She  was  much  alarmed  by  the  encroachments  of  Alexander,  her  great  rival. 
On  the  other  hand,  she  was  unable  to  contend  against  France,  even  with 
Russia  as  an  ally.  How,  then,  could  she  resist  France  and  Russia  combined  ? 
England,  always  unpopular,  had  become  absolutely  odious  to  Europe  by  her 
conduct  at  Copenhagen.  Yet  through  England  alone  could  Austria  hope  to 
regain  Italy,  and  to  retard  the  appalling  growth  of  Russia.  Napoleon  was 
perfectly  frank  in  his  communications  with  the  court  of  Vienna.  There  was 
no  occasion  for  intrigue.  He  sincerely  wished  to  unite  Austria  and  Russia 
with  France,  that,  upon  perfectly  equitable  terms,  peace  might  be  forced 
upon  England.  He  desired  nothing  so  much  as  leisure  to  develop  the  re- 
sources of  France,  and  to  make  his  majestic  empire  the  garden  of  the  world. 
Weary  of  contending,  with  all  Europe  against  him,  he  was  willing  to  make 
almost  any  concessions  for  the  sake  of  peace.  "England,"  said  he,  "is  the 
great  enemy  of  peace.  The  world  demands  repose.  England  can  not  hold 
out  against  the  strongly  expressed  unanimity  of  the  Continent." 

The  Austrian  court,  never  frank  and  honorable,  with  much  hesitancy 
joined  the  Continental  alliance.  An  envoy  was  dispatched  to  the  court  of 
St.  James  with  two  messages.  The  one  was  public,  and  for  the  ear  of  Eu- 
rope. It  declared  that  France,  through  the  mediation  of  Russia,  had  pro- 
posed equitable  terms  for  peace ;  and  that,  if  England  now  refused  peace, 
all  nations  must  combine  against  her.  The  other  message  was  secret  and 
deceitful.  It  stated  that  Austria,  left  alone  upon  the  Continent,  could  not 
resist  France  and  Russia.  There  was  a  little  blending  of  magnanimity  in 
the  addition  that  England  ought  to  think  of  peace  ;  that  if  she  still  persisted 

and  that  it  should  be  likewise  at  her  option  to  cede  any  portion  of  the  conquests  which  she  might 
make  there  to  her  allies. 

"  If  the  two  allies  agree  together  in  a  precise  manner  that  they  adopt  one  or  the  other  of  these 
two  plans  of  partition,  his  majesty  the  Emperor  Alexander  will  have  extreme  pleasure  in  repairing 
to  the  personal  interview  which  has  been  proposed  to  him,  and  which  could,  perhaps,  take  place  at 
Erfurt.  He  conceives  that  it  would  be  advantageous  if  the  basis  of  the  engagements  that  are  to  be 
made  there  were  previously  fixed  with  a  sort  of  precision,  that  the  two  emperors  may  have  nothing 
to  add  to  the  extreme  satisfaction  of  seeing  one  another  but  that  of  being  enabled  to  sign  without 
delay  the  fate  of  this  part  of  the  globe,  and  thereby,  as  they  purpose  to  themselves,  to  force  En- 
gland to  desire  that  peace  from  which  she  now  keeps  aloof  willfully  and  with  such  boasting." 


1807.]  NEGOTIATIONS  WITH  ALEXANDER.  611 

in  war,  her  best  friends  would  be  compelled  to  abandon  "her.  The  Austrian 
embassador  was  also  commissioned  boldly  to  declare  that  the  act  perpetra- 
ted at  Copenhagen  was  an  outrage  which  was  deeply  felt  by  every  neutral 
state.  i 


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